


Bite Me

by HisAngelThursday



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abused Dean, Abusive Alastair (Supernatural), Alien Biology, Alien Castiel (Supernatural), Alien Sex, Alien/Human Relationships, BDSM, Bathing/Washing, Blow Jobs, Castiel Has Two Dicks, Cock Cages, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean in Denial, Dean in Panties, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Feminization, Gentle Dom Castiel, Gentle Sex, Humiliation, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Master/Pet, Masturbation, Morning Wood, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Cuddling, Non-Consensual Tickling, Non-Consensual Touching, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Owner Castiel, Pet Dean, Prostate Milking, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Situational Humiliation, Size Difference, Size Kink, Slave Dean, Sub Dean, Sub Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2018-12-16 10:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 24,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11826717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisAngelThursday/pseuds/HisAngelThursday
Summary: In a world where humans are considered cute and popular pets, Dean is an abused rescue "animal" and Castiel is the high-strung alien businessman who wants something to care for.When the two cross paths at the animal shelter, Castiel decides Dean is just the creature to shower with his love and affection -- whether Dean likes it or not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Pet Therapy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9849992) by [Strixes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strixes/pseuds/Strixes). 



Humans were considered adorable by Castiel's people, for the same reason animals with big heads and large, round eyes were considered cute by humans: they bore a resemblance to his people's young. Their soft, scaleless bodies, varying in color from light pink to dark brown, looked quite reminiscent of those of young hatchlings, fresh from their shells. The hair on their head resembled the beginnings of crests, soft enough to be baby fuzz.

As such, it really wasn't surprising that humans had become so boomingly popular as pets: everyone needed to have one. Everyone, of course, except for the hippies who claimed they were too sentient, too intelligent, that keeping them was unethical, but then, nobody really paid much attention to that crowd. 

Castiel smiled as he overlooked their naked bodies, huddled in the corners of the kennel as though it might help them escape the looming reptilians above them. Two in one corner – both female – and one in the other, who was a male. 

The females, the clerk had informed him, were related, mother and daughter. Though it wasn't necessary, she was trying to sell them together.

“Humans are extremely social animals,” the more sociable of her heads informed him (she had three in total – a low number, Castiel knew, for someone of her species.) “They can form lifelong bonds. Especially with all this new research coming to light, it's considered sort of unethical.”

Castiel nodded politely. “I wouldn't mind considering buying both. The females are less aggressive, yes?”

“Only if they're socialized on earth,” said the clerk. Gesturing with one clawed finger to the male in the other corner, she added, “Our Dean over there was apparently procured very young, so he was never integrated into male human social roles. Granted, all our humans here are rescue animals, and all three here were abused; they're all a bit skittish and rebellious. But the males no more so than the females.”

Castiel nodded again, eyeing the male thoughtfully. He was a cute little thing, covered in light golden speckles all over his body the same color as his hair. He looked up at Castiel with wide emerald eyes almost the exact same color as Castiel's scales. 

If this human – 'Dean,' the store clerk had called him – was no more aggressive than the females, he saw no reason why he should expend his resources on two. 

“How old is your Dean?” Castiel inquired. 

“Twenty-nine,” said the clerk. “We only started him on his anti-aging vaccinations when they brought him to us. His last owner was reportedly impoverished, and neglected a lot of his physical requirements. It took us a while to nurse him back to health.” 

Castiel's eye-ridges arched in inquiry, and the clerk laughed. “Humans are very short-lived in the wild,” she explained. “Without vaccinations, they only live about a hundred years.”

“I see.” Castiel was glad that his prospective pet wasn't an infant. He lived a busy life, and didn't have much time to devote to raising a newborn. “And what would I need if I were to bring him home with me today?” 

“Just to fill out a quick adoption form and pay a small fee,” chirped another of the clerk's heads. “Then we could give you some pamphlets on their required nutrition and care. Then, you're free to go.”

Castiel considered it. His family had kept humans when he was young, and he was reasonably familiar with how to care for them. Moreover, as a businessman, he didn't currently have time for a family of his own – he'd missed having something to care for, something to sleep in his bed with him. 

Perhaps he was being impulsive, but he saw no harm in bringing the speckled little human home with him.

“I'll take him.” 

…

 

“What are they saying?” asked Jo, watching the creatures cautiously as she huddled against her mother.

“Why do you keep askin' me?” scoffed Ellen. “Fucked if I know.”

In spite of their situation, Dean couldn't help but manage a chuckle. Sure, he didn't like being caged or treated like an animal, but he wouldn't mind it if he had Jo and Ellen by his side. Besides, he had a soft blanket beneath him, food and water, and a clerk who – despite being a sinewy, multi-headed and multi-limbed Eldrich Horror – treated him gently. God knew he'd been through worse. So much worse.

Still, the reptilian, dragon-like creature talking to the clerk unsettled him. Point A being because it was the same species as Alistair, albeit a somewhat more attractive specimen: where Alistair had been dusky gray as cigarette ash, this creature had glossy emerald scales and striking blue eyes. If one were to briefly forget how terrifying the thing was, it could be considered beautiful.

Point B being because between the indecipherable stream of pops, hisses, and gibberish that comprised the common language here, Dean had made out his name at least twice. He didn't think Jo and Ellen picked up on it, but he most certainly had. 

“Mom,” said Jo, shifting nervously. “Mom, I think he's filling out a contract.”

“Sssshhhh,” Ellen soothed, stroking her daughter's hair. “I told you I'm not letting anyone take you from me, right?”

“Right, but-” 

“Well, I'm not. I'll stick by your side, or die trying.” 

They were brave words, and said with conviction, but Dean had seen how effortlessly these creatures could handle humans. He knew that whichever of them this one wanted, no one was going to be able to stop it.

Dean considered telling them that he seriously doubted either of them were the ones being purchased here, but if he were being honest, that wasn't something he was ready to admit to himself. He didn't want to think that after all this time, he was going to put back into the care of another creature like Alistair.

He decided to distract himself as best he could instead. “So the folks around here. They treat their pets right?” he inquired. 

Ellen scoffed. “Folks around here are affluent. So yeah, if living as a pampered pet for God-knows-how-long is your idea of being treated right, then sure.” She shook her head disgruntledly. “That serum they inject us with won't even give us the chance to die with dignity.”

Dean thought about this. Sure, a pampered lifestyle would be better than what he – or any of them, for that matter – ever had before, but it wasn't the life any of them wanted. 

On impulse, he said, “If anything happens to me, I want you two to break out of here.”

Ellen huffed again. “Shut up, Dean. Nothin's going to happen to you.”

“Look, just promise, okay?” 

Ellen rolled her eyes. “Okay, Dean. Fine. I promise. I still say you're bein' -”

Jo cut her off. “Mom. Mom, he's coming back.” 

The three of them looked up as the clerk prowled back towards them, followed by the reptilian creature. 

He was peripherally aware of Jo screaming and clinging to her mother as the roof of the cage was opened, and the two looming creatures were suddenly staring down at them from above.

Dean struggled and swore, on instinct and on principle, but could predictably do nothing as his wrists were pinched together by strong, huge claws, and he was heaved effortlessly out of the cage. 

 

… 

 

Castiel almost felt silly for having been concerned with Dean being aggressive. Humans may have seemed intimidating to him when he was younger and smaller himself, but now he had absolutely no problem holding the struggling little creature still in his arms while it chattered and squirmed in protest. 

The clerk was giving him some final tips on how to best care for his new human: as she'd told him earlier, Dean's last owner had treated him poorly, beating him regularly, denying him food, and forcing him to live in his own filth in a cramped, uncleaned kennel. 

As such, Dean tended to be skittish, and would need some handling and special attention in order to get him used to contact and affection. 

Castiel listened politely, and nodded. He could do that. One the reasons he'd wanted a human to begin with so he could get the feeling of having something to care for.

Afterwards, the clerk excused herself to get a crate for Castiel to carry Dean home in, and Dean was left alone with his pet for the first time.

He looked down at the human, not much longer than the length of his arm, soft and vulnerable clad in nothing but the soft gray shorts humans were given to wear.

He looked into his face, almost eerily expressive; it was highly debated as to whether humans were capable of complex emotions such as defiance, but he could have sworn he saw it in Dean's peridot eyes.

He made an angry chattering noise at Castiel that his ears could not decipher as language.

In response, Castiel just smiled. “Shush. It's okay, Dean,” he soothed. “We're going home.”


	2. The Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel gives his new pet a bath, and Dean begins to get acclimated to his new home.

Dean remembered the day he'd gotten away from Alistair. 

He wasn't sure how long he'd been with him. Days, months, and years had blurred together in that filthy little house with boarded up windows and very little sun. Dean had long since stopped trying to keep track of how old he was.

Alistair was drunk, home with one of his conquests – another, smaller lizard person that Dean could identify from the shape of her eye-ridges as female, and probably pretty trashy, given the way she was dressed – and brought Dean out for their amusement.

Dean felt absolutely disgusting after having been in that filthy, stinking kennel for so long. He was dirty, he was skinny, and he knew for a fact he smelled terrible, but the creatures didn't seem to care. He was just a little animal to them, and things like poor health or neglected physical hygiene tended to escape their notice.

The female creature loomed over him and made strange, vaguely terrifying cooing noises in her alien tongue, and Alistair made Dean do some of the tricks he'd taught him (really generic, demeaning stuff, like rolling over and whatnot.) 

If this had been his plan for seducing his latest conquest, it evidently worked, because a few minutes later the two retreated to the bedroom making the hissing noises Dean recognized as their mating call.

Alistair, in his drunkenness and eagerness for sex, had left Dean out of his cage. And Dean knew he probably wouldn't be back out again for hours afterwards.

Dean knew that now was his chance. 

Finding the crowbar that Alistair kept in the corner to use as a weapon (it was a rough neighborhood), Dean managed to pry one of the boards off of the window. It was a little difficult, because everything was so much bigger than he was and he was so malnourished, but his desire for freedom was greater.

He brushed away the remnants of shattered glass, shimmied over the windowsill, and escaped into the night.

It was so strange to be free after all this time, the pavement damp with rain beneath his bare feet, the feeling of fog against his skin. Houses towered over him, proportionately big enough to make Dean feel like a child.

Looking back, he should have run right away, he should have hid, but he was still too dazed at his new-found freedom. He'd been with Alistair for probably the better part of a decade now. It didn't seem real that he could finally be free.

As it turned out, he wasn't for long: animal control picked him up before the night was through, sorry bastards trying to help, thinking he was just a stupid animal who would get himself killed on his own. He was transported to the shelter on one of their satellite stations, where he'd been for around nine months since. He was cared for there. Treated well. But he'd never stop longing for another taste of the freedom he'd felt that night.

…

Dean was jogged from his sleep by the squeak of his carry case door as it was opened. It took him a minute to process where he was, and why Jo or Ellen weren't there with him – he'd gotten so used to them in the short amount of time they'd spent together.

It was only when he saw those frosty blue eyes, pupils feline slits, that he remembered where he was: the creature (among the alien gibberish, he was pretty sure he'd made out the word 'Castiel' spoken several times, which he assumed to be his name) had taken Dean in his shuttle craft back to what appeared to be his apartment on a neighboring, residential space station. 

It was a little embarrassing how easy it had been for the creature – Castiel – to manhandle Dean, how easy it was to for him to carry him around in the carton like he was some sort of a pet. Which, okay, he was, but he really didn't like to think of it that much.

Dean huddled futilely towards the back of his human-sized carry case while the clawlike hands reached in for him, taking hold of him from underneath his arms and pulling him out easily. Dean flopped onto a springy, cushion-y surface that Dean belatedly realized to be an enormous bed. 

Dean didn't have time to appreciate the soft surface, softer than anything Dean had felt in the past five or six years, as he scrambled backwards into the pillows. 

The creature loomed over him, huge and terrifying, eyes glowing in the relatively dim light.

“Stay away from me, you fuckin' creep,” Dean panted, though he knew the creatures couldn't understand him. “Don't you come near me. I'll bite you!”

Similarly, Dean knew a bite would do nothing against the reptilian armor, but he still felt the need to protest on principle.

Castiel only grinned like a crocodile, making a hissing laughing noise. He said something to Dean in the language he didn't understand, and then walked away, clawed feet clicking on the smooth floor. He opened a door to a smaller, more brightly lit room, and turned on what sounded like a tap to a bathtub – Dean presumed it to be the creature's bathroom.

Now was his chance. 

He hopped off of the bed – its sheets varying shades of wine and plum purple – and padded swiftly towards the closed door that he assumed to be the exit. When he opened it, however, only white togas like the ones Castiel (and other male reptilian creatures) wore. Damn closet.

Dean quietly closed the door, looking around and minutely spotting another one, nearly identical. 

He scampered over to it, only to find it locked. Dean thumped his head against it in frustration. 

Realizing that there was no easy way to escape for the time being, Dean turned to have a look around Castiel's bedroom: the bed was neatly made. On one wall was a screen that Dean supposed was some kind of a television, and there was a small green lamp and phonelike device that Dean knew the creatures used to read and listen to music.

On the walls were what appeared to be abstract paintings and artworks that Dean didn't recognize, but he found the color schemes pleasing. Outside the lone, square window, Dean saw stars, the distant speck of the neighboring space station, and the marble-like, green surface of the lizard people's planet below. 

If he forgot he was a prisoner here, the room was actually quite comfortable.

Dean was jogged from his thoughts when Castiel exited the bathroom, the sleeves of his robe rolled up to his elbows. Dean turned to run, not sure where he was going, but was too slow – Castiel caught up with him in three large steps, and scooped him up in his scaly, muscular arms.

“Let me go, motherfucker!” Dean snarled, squirming uselessly, but the creature was unperturbed. Dean had never felt more helpless than he did in his arms. 

Castiel walked them back to the bathroom, where a tub (big enough to fit a lizard creature) had been filled with warm water and soapy green bubbles. It smelled fragrant, and it had been literally decades since Dean had had a bath this nice, but he still sure as hell wasn't going to let this creature give him a bath willingly. 

Dean writhed and squirmed with all his might, but could do nothing but watch as the creature hooked his claws underneath the waistband of his shorts and began to pull them down.

“No,” Dean grunted, kicking his legs futilely as his last bit of modesty was stripped from him. 

The instant the shorts were gone, Dean covered his bare genitals with his hands. This wasn't the first time he'd been naked in from of the creatures – he'd been nude for almost the whole time he'd been with Alistair – but that didn't make it any better.

Castiel seemed to find the gesture very amusing, and made another hissing laugh.

“Fuck you, asshole,” Dean muttered, irritated that the creature seemed amused by his discomfort. 

He didn't have much time to sulk, however, before he found himself being lowered into the warm waters of the tub.

In that moment, all of Dean's desire to fight left him instantly. 

Being in a warm bath was better than anything he had possibly imagined. Back at the pet store, he'd been occasionally hozed off, which he was grateful for – it was better than anything he'd had with Alistair – but this felt like heaven. 

Dean sank deeper into the mountains of lime green bubbles and purred, vaguely aware of Castiel kneeling beside the tub in his periphery. 

He briefly tensed when he felt the creature put a washcloth to his shoulder, but relaxed again when he realized how good it felt. Dean closed his eyes and let himself steep in the sensations.

Part of his mind was screaming at him for being so weak as to enjoy his captor's ministrations, but he'd forgotten how good it felt to be cared for. No one had given him a bath, a proper bath, since before he'd been taken from Earth when he was very small, and he couldn't help but associate it with love, safety, and home. 

Castiel washed his hair next, and though Dean was briefly concerned about his claws, the creature seemed very careful not to graze him, and the sensation of the big, paddle-like fingers massaging his scalp felt sublime. Dean made a pleased noise, and couldn't even get angry at Castiel's resulting hissing chuckle. 

Afterwards, Castiel rinsed the soap out of his hair and carefully washed his face with the wash cloth. Dean wanted the bath to go on forever, but it ended all too soon when Castiel's big arms reached into the water and Dean found himself being scooped out. 

“Aw, come on, man,” he whined as he was placed on the bathmat. “Already?”

Castiel made no reply other than to wrap Dean up in a fluffy towel and dry him off which, Dean wasn't going to lie, felt pretty damn good in and of itself.

Afterwards, he left Dean there, wrapped up in his towel cocoon, while he briefly exited the room, minutely returning with a pare of human-sized pajama pants.

Dean's heart skipped a beat, not even questioning where Castiel had gotten them. It had been forever since Dean had had actual pants, and these ones (as he realized upon stepping into them) were exquisitely soft. 

Dean was so stunned by everything that was happening that he could barely process when Castiel scooped him up in his arms again and they exited the bathroom together, minutely depositing him onto the bed. 

Dean propped himself up on his elbows and watched as Castiel went about his business: after he drained the bathtub, he retrieved from a bag (the logo of which told Dean it was from the pet store) a human-sized bowl, which he then filled with water and set in the corner of the room.

He made a voice command to the television which turned it on, showing what seemed to be an alien news program of some kind, and then another to set the volume to low. 

Afterwards, Dean watched with fascination as Castiel disrobed, stripping off his robe and depositing it in the hamper, till he was in nothing but his own undergarments. He was really quite attractively built, if one were to discount the scales, lean and muscular with strong arms and sharp hipbones, thighs thick as treetrunks. 

He was finally jogged from his trance when he realized Castiel was getting into bed with him. 

“Whoa there, man,” said Dean, squirming towards the edge of the bed. “Good luck in your search and everything, but I'm not interested in lizard people.”

Obviously, the pleas fell on deaf ears, and Dean was helpless to escape once strong arms were around him, pulling him close to the creature's muscular and surprisingly warm chest. Dean remained tense, not quite comfortable with such close contact, but part of him had to admit that the sensation was nice.

Castiel pulled the soft blankets up over both of them, and made a voice command that turned off the overhead lights. 

The room was now only illuminated by the blue light of the television and the green lamp on the bedside table, which Dean couldn't help but find soothing. Soon, Castiel's soft snores filled the room, and Dean finally allowed himself to relax knowing that the creature was asleep. Honestly, he felt a little dirty for thinking Castiel had planned anything different for him – after all, these people surely couldn't think it was socially acceptable to have sexual relations with their pets, right?

Dean allowed himself to be consoled by the thought, and allowed the warm drowsiness to finally consume him. 

Though he'd never allow himself to consciously admit this, maybe being a pampered pet wouldn't be so bad after all.


	3. First Day on the Job

Castiel awoke to his pet twitching beside him, presumably in some sort of a dream – pleasant or otherwise. He wondered what humans dreamt about: sure, he knew Dean had at one point been on Earth, and that on Earth, there were supposedly some primitive structures, vehicles, and familial units. 

But surely Dean couldn't remember all of that. He had, after all, been a child when he was taken, and he doubted human memory could go back so far. 

Or maybe he was thinking of his last owner. Castiel scowled at the thought – he'd only just procured Dean, but already he found the little creature to be absolutely delightful and endearing. How anyone could think of harming such a thing was utterly beyond him.

His suspicions were further validated when Dean began to whimper, eyebrows scrunching together and shaking his head in his sleep.

Castiel shook his shoulder lightly. “Dean. Wake up. It's only a dream,” he said.

Dean's eyes blinked open foggily, and he looked around in confusion, not seeming to remember where he was. Seeing Castiel, he yelped in surprise and jumped backwards, trying to scramble off of the bed.

Castiel, of course, caught him easily, pinching his wrists together with his claws. “Hmmph. I suppose they really weren't kidding about you being skittish, were they?” he remarked.

Dean seemed to have gained some lucidity by this point, because he chattered at Castiel angrily and tugged pointedly at his wrists.

Castiel got an idea, and grinned deviously as he tugged Dean's arms up over his head. The human made a concerned, questioning chatter, that quickly turned more frantic as he saw Castiel's other claw approaching his bare torso. 

“I read somewhere that humans can be ticklish,” Castiel mused. “Let's see if that's true.”

With that, Castiel experimentally, lightly scratched his taloned fingers over the speckled flesh of human's soft, slightly pudgy midsection.

At first, Dean seemed agitated, chattering and squirming indignantly, but it soon devolved into muffled chortling noises that Castiel recognized as laughter. He grinned as he moved his claws up to tickle the human's ribs and underarms, watching as he tried to scrunch up to protect himself and chattered in protest. 

“Ticklish little human, aren't you?” Castiel chuckled, before finally letting him go.

As soon as Dean's arms were released, he folded them in front of himself and chattered at Castiel angrily, flushed and indignant.

“I'm sorry. You're right, that was mean of me,” Castiel smiled, ruffling the human's short, fuzzy hair. “Now, come along; I'll make you some breakfast, and then show you where you'll be staying when I'm at work today.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short, fluffy chapter for today. Next chapter I'll be adding some more characters and setting up some of the more NSFW themes.


	4. The Daycare

Dean refused to label what he was doing as pouting, but essentially he was. 

After the tickling incident, Dean had hoped that the rest of his day would be free of such indignities. At first, it seemed like it was going to be: Castiel made Dean something sweet and grainy that resembled oatmeal, and it was pretty good, even though he had to drink it from the bowl in lieu of a spoon.

The trouble came afterwards, when Castiel brought out the bag of pet store supplies. Dean was still seated, cross-legged, in the corner of Castiel's kitchen – sleek and minimalist as the rest of the apartment, giving Dean the impression that Castiel was pretty rich – with his now empty bowl in his lap. He watched, curiously, as Castiel removed something from the pet store bag. It was a piece of fabric, small and pink and ruffly, with little shapes on it. 

He didn't make the connection until Castiel held it out towards him and said something in reptilian that Dean realized it was supposed to be for him.

“Hey, man, no fuckin' way,” said Dean, getting to his feet and backing precociously towards the wall. “I don't know what they told you at that pet store, but I ain't no female.” 

Castiel repeated whatever it was he'd just said, more firmly this time. Dean suspected it was a command. 

Dean sighed. He knew that the reasonable thing to do was to acquiesce in this situation and not make things worse for himself, but Dean had never considered himself to be very smart. 

He dropped his bowl (which, thankfully, was made out of plastic) and ran. 

Naturally, five minutes later he was being held off of the ground, squirming and swearing, while Castiel pulled off his pants and then tugging the pink shorts over his kicking legs. 

As predicted, they were horrible. They were satiny, they looked like panties, and they had little bows on them. And if Dean was being honest with himself, he sort of liked them. But then, he wasn't that good at being honest with himself, either.

Dean pouted the entire time Castiel got ready for work, calmly packing his briefcase (which, unlike most of the briefcases back on Earth, was circular and made of a translucent material the same color as his scales) and putting away the breakfast dishes.

As Dean allowed himself to be herded back into the carrier and toted back out to Castiel's shuttle, he could only think one thing: 

“Today is going to fucking suck.”

…

It would have been most apt to call the establishment a doggy daycare, albeit with humans in the place of doggies. Brightly colored illustrations of smiling humans lined the walls, and relaxing music played from the speakers.

He wasn't going to make a habit of this, of course – once Dean was trained, he'd feel more comfortable leaving him alone in the apartment – but he wasn't sure he wanted him unsupervised for the time being.

A nicely dressed woman with aqua blue scales looked up from a magazine to smile at Castiel from behind the counter. “Hello, and welcome to Pet Watcher's Human Daycare! How may I help you today?” 

“Good morning. I'm here to drop off my pet, Dean,” said Castiel, opening the crate and allowing a very disgruntled-looking Dean to crawl out and get sulkily to his feet. “You'll have to forgive him. He doesn't like his new outfit,” Castiel explained, eyeing his pet bemusedly. 

“Oh, well isn't he just adorable,” said the clerk, in a babyish tone of voice. “I don't believe I've seen him here before. You just got him, I take it?” 

“Yes, just yesterday,” said Castiel. “No signs of aggression, except some difficulties at bathtime and some aversions to being handled. I was informed by the pet store that he has a clean bill of health, so there shouldn't be any risk to the other pets.” Castiel paused, then added, “My one concern is that Dean hasn't been neutered. Do you think there will be any risk of his impregnating females?”

“Oh, I doubt it,” the clerk assured him. “Our playpen is well-supervised, and any unseemly activity will quickly be put to rest. We keep things very PG in this establishment!” She reached into her drawer, and slid a sheet of paper across the desk, along with a pen. “Just fill out this sheet, and Dean should have a good time today making some new friends!”

Castiel nodded, and filled it out carefully before sliding it back to her. 

“I'll be back to pick him up at approximately eighteen hundred hours today,” he informed her. “If I'm late, I'll be sure to call to let you know.”

Turning to Dean, he ruffled his pet's hair. “Be a good boy today, Dean. Make some new friends, and I'll be sure to give you a treat when I get home.” 

With that, he bid the clerk goodbye, thanked her, and headed out the door.

Good grief. One day as a pet owner, and he was already talking to his human. Next, he'd be claiming Dean could understand him!

 

…

It was apparently pretty early by alien standards, because there were only a few humans there besides him, and only one of them spoke English. 

Her name was Bela, and as Dean learned very quickly, Bela was kind of a dick. She had a lot to say about the fact that Dean seemed to be wearing panties, and spoke to him in a way that was simultaneously flirtatious and deeply condescending. 

He talked to her anyway, though, because human interaction was something he'd learned not to take for granted. At present, they'd taken shelter in one of the giant tubes the humans had been given to crawl around and play in, away from the prying eyes of the supervisors.

“The thing lots of humans take for granted, Dean,” said Bela, in her poncy British accent. She was currently posited on her side, in a fancy lace garment similar to Dean's. No bra, obviously – the aliens were a lot less finicky on the subject of breasts than humans were. “Is that we have power.”

“Yeah? How so?” Dean asked, humoring her. 

“We're as smart as they are, for one thing, and they don't know it,” she said. “And they think we're adorable. There's power in that. It took a few decades of practice, but I can get my darling master to do anything I want. He's wrapped around my little finger.” Bela paused to pluck one of the alien fruits from the bowl that had been left out for them, placing it between her lips suggestively. “Of course, there were a few extra favors I had to do for him first, but those aren't altogether unpleasant either.”

Dean's brow furrowed. “Extra favors?” he asked. 

Bela grinned, and lowered her voice to a playful whisper. “You ever hear about how back on Earth, some dirty men will put peanut butter on their you-know-whats and have their dogs lick it off for them?”

Dean pulled a face. “Um, no, I didn't. That's pretty fuckin' gross, actually.” 

Bela chuckled, patting Dean on the cheek condescendingly. “You're too precious, darling. But in case you were wondering, humans aren't the only creatures to get a bit down and dirty with their pets, if you catch my drift. Certain lizard people enjoy a good role in the hay as well,” she said with a wink. 

Dean's eyes widened at the realization. “Oh! Oh, what the FUCK. You're tellin' me you suck off a lizard dude!?” 

Bela shrugged, white-toothed smile undaunted. “In his defense, it took a bit of effort on my part: nosing at his naughty bits while pretending to be asleep, nudging it while begging for a 'treat'...” 

Dean covered his ears, already horrified enough by what he was hearing. “Stop! Stop, I get the picture, okay? JESUS.”

“...But it was worth it,” she concluded. “I get preferential treatment over all his other pets now. Laze around all day, watching the tellie, going for walks on the treadmill he bought special for me, eating from my special bowl. It's really quite the life.” 

Dean only stared at her incredulously, cowed by how normal she made it all sound.

“In his defense, it's not quite on the same level as shacking up with pigs or livestock,” Bela continued. “Biologically speaking, we look quite similar to them, and they already find us visually appealing. It's really only a small step away from being sexually attracted to us as well, and vise versa.” She paused, then added pleasantly, “You know, he hasn't taken me in the missionary fashion yet, but if he did, I really don't think I would mind; he's very well-hung.” 

“Oh, what the hell,” Dean muttered, utterly disgusted by what she was saying, and a little horrified by the implications of it. “So you're tellin' me lizard folks just up and having sex with humans is a normal thing around these parts?”

“Well, it's not socially acceptable, if that's what you're asking,” said Bela. “I doubt he'd want all his stuffy business friends to know what he was doing behind closed doors. But I'm not really in the position to squeal on him, now am I? We can learn to understand them – with time, obviously – but I have yet to meet any of them that can understand us.” 

She leaned back on her arms and observed Dean beneath heavy-lidded green eyes while he computed this. Her pale breasts rested atop her ribcage, skin delicate and flesh clinging tightly to the bone. 

“I can show you, if you'd like,” she offered.

Dean blinked, dumbly. “Huh?” 

“How I go about it,” she elaborated. “It's really quite pleasant, you know. All the men I've been with seem to quite appreciate it.” 

Dean blinked again, and Bela looked at him bemusedly. “You have been had before, haven't you?” 

“...'Had?'” 

“Yes, you know. Fucked,” she reiterated bluntly. “Or sucked off, at least.” 

Dean flushed at the unabashedness of her phrasing. He'd been kissed before, jacked off a few times, but he'd been a pet since he was twelve years old – it hadn't left him a lot of room for experimenting.

At his silence, Bela's grin widened. “You haven't, had you?”

“Shut up,” Dean huffed. 

“A pretty thing like you? I can't believe it!” Bela exclaimed, practically tittering by this point. “Oh, let me, will you? You'll love it, I promise.”

Dean considered it. “...I don't know,” he said indecisively. “You've sucked off a lizard dude, right? What if you give me, like. Lizard herpies or something?”

Bela laughed. “Dean, I'm fifty-one years old – anti-aging vaccines, I know. Works wonders – and I've been a slave for thirty-five of them. Never once have I seen anyone contract anything remotely similar to 'lizard herpies.'”

Dean still wasn't convinced, but Bela – soft and warm and human, just like he craved – leaned forward and began to rub him through his pink shorts, and Dean couldn't bring himself to resist as she slowly drew him to hardness. 

“Someone might see,” he attempted, voice already reduced to short, breathy huffs.

“Hush, darling,” Bela shushed him, pushing him irresistibly onto his back. “No one will see. Just lean back and enjoy the ride.” 

Dean stared up at the green plastic ceiling of the tube, breathing heavily as he felt the warm wetness of Bela's mouth engulf him. Part of him took issue with the fact that he was losing his virginity (or part of it, anyway) to what was essentially an old lady who had given head to reptiles. The rest of him couldn't bring himself to care. 

Dean felt his climax approaching almost embarrassingly fast, and tried to stave it off as long as possible. But he could feel the heat building in his lower belly, his balls tightening, and he knew he couldn't prolong the inevitable. 

He came, hot and hard, with a groan into Bela's mouth, and lay panting as she sucked him through the aftermath.

He barely registered when the wet heat abruptly disappeared – only the sudden yelp and the skid of Bela's body on plastic. He looked up to see her being pulled out of the tube by her ankles by one of the supervisors, who was barking an angry command at her in her indecipherable, reptilian tongue.

Bela looked only moderately irritated as the creature called over the other supervisor to come retrieve Dean as well. 

Dean swallowed. Why did something tell him Castiel was going to find out about this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you have given me some great ideas in comments on previous chapters. I'm already thinking of ways to incorporate them into the fic. 
> 
> Until then, rest assured that jealous Cas is coming!


	5. End of Day One

Castiel was furious as he drove his shuttle home. 'We keep things very PG at this establishment.' Ha! 

Castiel didn't know what was worse: the fact that the supervisors hadn't been able to keep that mongrel off of his Dean, or the fact that it had apparently happened before: the supervisors had somewhat abashedly informed him that this particular female was very sexually aggressive, and had a long history of initiating sexual activities with other humans. 

And yet they'd left her around Dean, alone and apparently unsupervised! It had taken everything in Castiel's power not to chew them out for their negligence.

Unfortunately, the daycare was the only decent one in the two space stations, and there really weren't much of a choice at the moment but to bring Dean back. Luckily, tomorrow was the start of Castiel's weekend, so he'd have three days off to think about it.

…

Dean couldn't enjoy his bath the way he had yesterday. He was too preoccupied. 

He knew for a fact some masters got their humans castrated, out of concern for their temperament or getting women pregnant, and Dean really, really didn't want that for himself. He'd never even had the chance to full-on have sex before, and losing his balls before then would be just plain tragic.

Dean had sensed Castiel was moderately pissed off ever since he'd picked him up, acting stony all throughout dinner (at least Dean had gotten some meat – he wasn't sure what it was, but it tasted like beef and was really quite delicious), and uncharacteristically quiet while giving Dean his bath.

Now, back in their bedroom, he'd given Dean a game to play – something very similar to Tetris – to keep him occupied while he made a phone call.

Dean hoped Castiel wasn't angry at him. He felt stupid for wanting his captor's approval, but he realized now how nice it had been to have his attention yesterday, his gentle touch, and deep, cooing grumble. Even his weird hissing laugh. 

Dean would do just about anything to get that back. Well. Besides more tickling – that had just been embarrassing.

As soon as Castiel got off of the phone, Dean made up his mind: he was going to apologize. Well, apologize in the best way a pet could, anyhow. 

He crawled up to Castiel and nudged at his knee, making pathetic whimpering noises and looking up at him with his best puppy eyes (God. No, he wasn't going to think about Sammy. He wasn't going to go down that road again.)

He felt pathetic even as he did it, but he didn't want to lose Castiel's affection. It had been so long since anyone had taken care of him the way Castiel had, and Dean hadn't realized how much he'd missed it. How much he'd missed being loved.

Thankfully, it seemed to work. Castiel made an affectionate noise and scooped Dean up into his arms, holding him close to the smooth, scaly warmth of his chest that Dean snuggled into instantly, very relieved to know his master still felt affectionate towards him. 

They stayed like that for a long time, Castiel holding Dean in his lap and stroking his hair while he watched the evening news.

Eventually, Dean began to dose off, content that Castiel still cared for him, and now hopeful that today's events would soon be forgotten.

…

 

Castiel was feeling a lot better as he finally lowered the volume on the TV and rolled over on his side, his pet's warm, soft body still pressed close against him. Dean really was a sweet, affectionate little thing – he was now more sure than ever that any “skittishness” had stemmed from his not being handled enough. All he'd needed was some contact and attention to bring him out of his shell.

Even with today's events, Castiel was more glad than ever that he'd decided to get a human.

Castiel smiled as he closed his eyes, trying to get some sleep. After all, they had a vet appointment in the morning.


	6. The Vet

The day got off to an interesting start when Castiel awoke to find his pet with an erection.

Dean was still asleep, lying on his back with his mouth slightly open. He really looked quite innocent, until Castiel looked down and saw the tent in the soft fabric of his pants below. 

Castiel scowled. This wasn't normal, was it? It probably had something to do with that tramp from the daycare. Of course, he knew human genitals didn't have sheaths, and they had no control over when and where they got erections, but still.

Out of curiosity and concern, Castiel reached out a tentative hand and placed it on Dean's clothed erection, pressing it flat. Dean made a soft sound in his sleep, and his hips gave a short, unconscious thrust. 

Fascinated, Castiel pressed down slightly harder, which turned out to be his mistake: Dean's eyes blinked open, and he was barely awake for five seconds before he yelped and jumped backwards in alarm. 

He covered his erection with his hands and looked angrily at Castiel, face flushed, and chattered indignantly. 

Castiel tried not to be amused by his pet's reaction, holding up his hands appeasingly. “I'm sorry. That was very rude of me.”

Dean only chattered again.

“As a reward,” Castiel continued. “You can stay in bed while I go make breakfast. You'll need some extra rest this morning,” he added, as he rolled out of bed and padded towards the door. “You have a long day ahead of you.”

… 

Dean remembered, vaguely, the sterile smell of hospital waiting rooms from when he was a child, and how much he disliked them. 

This waiting room smelled like that. 

Dean was more scared than he would ever admit to being: he didn't want a part of him to be surgically removed from him, especially not his balls. Why the fuck did he ever listen to Bela for, anyway? A few minutes of fleeting pleasure in a plastic tube wasn't worth getting his gonads lopped off.

Dean looked around the waiting room: there were some other lizard people, and a few multi-headed creatures like the clerk at the pet store, most of whom were reading magazines or their little reading tablets. Some had exotic, birdlike creatures with multiple wings and striking plumage, while others had cute little glider-type things. Only one other had a human, sitting at his owner's feet and playing some kind of a game.

“Hey,” Dean called out to him. “Hey!”

The human looked up.

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but, uh. Do you know what we're doing here?” 

The human stared at Dean for a moment, and then said, “我不会说英语.”

Dean slumped. “Sorry, my bad.”

“对不起，兄弟,” said the human, before going back to his game. 

Before long, a receptionist – who sort of resembled a large, colorful Chewbaka – came out and called two words that Dean knew all too well: 

“Dean” and “Castiel.”

A cold shiver ran down Dean's spine. 

For the first time since he was a child, he began to pray.

… 

The vet was a large, sandy-colored reptilian with a pleasant demeanor who made casual small talk as he took Dean's height and weight and gave him a short, rudimentary checkup. 

“Well, he looks very healthy,” the vet concluded, getting to his feet. “You mentioned he was beaten by his last owner, but whoever treated his scars did a fine job of it: I can't see any sign of them.” 

“Thank you, doctor,” Castiel smiled, talons stroking reassuringly through Dean's hair. 

“So, what seems to be the problem with him?” the vet inquired. 

“Well, I may be over-reacting,” Castiel began with a sigh. “But for one thing, yesterday there was an...incident at Dean's daycare. A sexually aggressive female initiated some illicit activities between the two of them.”

The vet laughed. “I see! So we have a ladies' man on our hands, hmm? Is that all?”

“Well. No,” Castiel admitted. “This morning, Dean woke up with what appeared to be an erection. I thought the two might be correlated somehow.”

The vet shook his head. “Oh, personally I doubt it. Humans tend to have healthy sex drives, and without a sheath, erections are bound to happen sooner or later. In un-neutered specimens, at least,” he added. 

“I was going to bring that up next: I don't want to risk Dean impregnating any females at the moment, and I've heard there are some health concerns to humans who aren't neutered. Do you think that we should...?” 

“Normally, I'd recommend it,” said the vet, catching Castiel's drift. “But your Dean here is such a beautiful specimen, I think it would be a real shame not to consider eventually using him for breeding stock. There's good money in it, you know – particularly considering that humans being abducted from their home planet is now deemed 'unethical.' Dang hippies.”

“I see,” said Castiel, thoughtfully. 

“I do, however, have a next best option: have you ever heard of chastity devices?”

Castiel shook his head. “No, I haven't.” 

“Essentially, it's a small device that you can secure around Dean's genitals and keep him from obtaining an erection or reaching orgasm,” the vet explained. “Compact, and easy to remove for cleaning purposes.”

“Would it hurt him?”

“Not at all,” the vet chuckled. “He might find it uncomfortable at first and try to remove it, but with time he'll get used to the sensation. And you could bring him back here once a month for 'milking' sessions to ensure that there aren't any health complications,” he added. 

“I see.” Castiel considered it, then decided, “Would it be possible to fit him with one today?”

“Absolutely,” the vet smiled. “I'd recommend we secure him first, though – humans tend to get a bit finicky about where they're touched.”

… 

Thirty minutes and some squirming and struggling later, and Dean had been restrained, his feet secured to stirrups and spread apart. 

Dean hadn't taken too kindly to the vet measuring his genitals, flushed and chattering the entire time, but the vet had assured Castiel it was only natural. 

“This size should work well for him,” said the vet, returning a few moments later with a small, clear plastic device that seemed about the right size to contain the shaft of Dean's penis. 

Dean's eyes widened upon seeing it, and he looked to Castiel, chattering pleadingly.

“Shush, Dean,” Castiel soothed him, running his hand through his hair. “This is for your own good. We can't have you knocking anyone up, now can we?” 

Dean still squirmed and strained futilely as the vet secured the translucent cage over his penis, locking it securely into place. 

Dean keened in despair, struggling to free his arms from the restraints that held them to the sides of the operating table.

Castiel watched with concern, then looked to the vet. “You're sure this isn't hurting him?” he asked. 

“I'm sure,” the vet assured him, stripping himself of his rubber gloves. “He might not like it now, but I assure you, he'll be a happier and healthier pet because of it. Now, if you'll come down here, I'll show you the combination code for unlocking the cage.”

Castiel stroked Dean's hair one last time, trying to ignore the droplets of tears forming at the corners of his pet's eyes. All he could do was hope that the vet was right, before moving down to meet him and do as he was bid.

… 

Dean, through all the emotional turmoil that today had brought on, could only think one thing: 

“I am going to fucking KILL Bela.”


	7. Dean Winchester:  Ticklish, Virgin, Cuckold Extraordinaire

Dean was sulking. If anyone asked, he'd profusely deny he was sulking, but he was. 

In his defense, he had pretty good reason to: he didn't like anyone handling his genitals without his consent, and losing autonomy over that particular body part had been more traumatic than he would have thought. It was better than castration, but he still hated the thought of not being able to touch himself or reach orgasm for however long that dickhead vet deemed fit.

To make matters worse, the vet had given Castiel some padded mitts to put over Dean's hands and keep him from trying to remove it. He really hated that damn vet.

Castiel, to his credit, had been babying Dean ever since they got back, cuddling and stroking him every chance he got. If Dean didn't know better, he'd have thought Cas felt guilty. It made things a bit difficult for him to maintain a cold shoulder, but Dean was stubborn, and he was determined to hold out. 

Dean sat with his nose high and his arms folded as Castiel scooped him into his lap, making soft, cooing noises as if to placate him that Dean studiously ignored. Castiel seemed to be settling down to read, symbols that vaguely resembled Chinese characters on the screen of his small tablet device.

Honestly, Dean would have rather been anywhere else at the moment.

For a while, things went well, and Dean sat still and frigid and not meeting Castiel's eyes as he traced gentle shapes up and down his back. 

Then his claws scratched over Dean's neck, and Dean scrunched his shoulders to defend himself, a small, stifled sound escaping his lips. Castiel's feline eyes immediately shifted towards him, swift and predatory. 

Dean held up his hands to defend himself, already inching to get off of Castiel's lap. “Don't even fucking think about it, man.”

Too late. Castiel set down his tablet, and took hold of Dean's wrists, holding them out of the way in one lightning-fast motion.

“Oh fuck, not again,” Dean whined, tugging futilely at his restrained arms. 

Reaching around him, he scribbled his claws over the soft, exposed flesh of Dean's stomach and ribcage, making him – well, Dean would firmly deny that the word for it was “squeal,” but that's what it was. 

“Sto-ho-hop thi-hi-his shit! Kno-ho-hock, it off! I'm MA-HA-HAD, dammit!” 

Like last time, the assault didn't last longer than a few minutes, but it was enough to leave Castiel irritatingly smug and Dean flustered once more. 

Maybe it was futile to try and maintain some semblance of dignity on this job: he was, after all, a ticklish virgin in what appeared to be pink panties. And he was somebody's pet. It wasn't exactly the National Guard.

That night, Castiel gave Dean some sausages for his dinner, and even took off the mitts to let him eat them. 

After the bath, where Castiel cleaned him extra gently and gave him some soft pajamas to wear, it was very difficult for Dean not to snuggle back into the oddly comforting warmth of his smooth green scales that evening.

He compromised by doing it very reluctantly.

In spite of it all, Dean couldn't bring himself to hate Cas. He couldn't even stay angry at him for too long. Even with this, he was kinder than all of Dean's other masters combined – being Alistair and the literal dragon lady who used to make him sleep in a tiny kennel and never let him on the furniture.

But he needed a better way to make this work. He needed a way to communicate, to let Cas know he had sentience and free will. 

And he just might be getting one soon enough.

 

…

 

“You. You did this on purpose,” Dean snarled, arms folded across his chest while Bela practically doubled over laughing at his misery. “You knew this would fucking happen!”

The weekend was over, and Dean was back at the daycare, Castiel evidently satisfied that his days of courtship were over. The embarrassingly panty-like shorts were thin enough that you could see the outline of his cage fairly easily, but luckily they were here fairly early in the morning again and he and Bela were the only ones there.

“Dean. Dean, darling, please don't be ridiculous,” said Bela, once she'd recovered somewhat. “You know I didn't mean for us to get caught. I'm as surprised by this as you are.”

Dean was unconvinced. “Yeah, well you knew it was a fuckin' possibility!” 

“True,” Bela shrugged. “But it was a risk I was willing to take, because I really happen to enjoy sex.”

Dean's jaw tightened, temper threatening to blow. “Okay, look, whatever. You got me into this, the least you could do is help me out.” He pointed at his cock cage. “You know how to get me out of this thing?” 

“Not in the slightest,” said Bela cheerfully. Dean was really starting to hate this chick. 

“Fuck!” Dean snapped, pumping his fists in frustration. “I'm never gonna be able to get off again, am I?”

“Oh, darling, that isn't true,” Bela cooed consolingly. “Why, once a month, you'll be taken down to the vet's office, a vibrating stick will be inserted into your delightful little ass, and you'll be -” 

“Okay! Stop. Fuck, I get the message.” Dean ran a hand down his face. “Look, I need your help: you...you speak lizard, right?”

“I understand lizard,” Bela corrected. “As far as I know, it's impossible for humans to make all the sounds in lizard vocabulary.”

“Alright, well, what about their writing?”

Bela seemed to consider it. “Writing, I can probably do,” she conceded. “I know some of their rudimentary characters at least, and I could probably teach them to you. There's just one thing I want to know.”

Dean waited, expecting her to ask him why he wanted to learn lizard to begin with. 

Instead, she asked, “What's in it for me?”

Dean gagged on nothing. “Lady, you got my dick locked up! It was practically rape! And now I'm gonna get a literal fucking stick up my ass once a month because of you.” 

“Well, I don't think it's fair to pin that all on me, dear,” said Bela, examining her nails. “After all, you're a consenting adult. You knew the risks when you agreed to let me blow you.”

Dean gaped at her. “No! I! DIDN'T!” 

“Oh, shush, darling. You don't want to get those pesky supervisors in here, do you?” 

Dean ran a hand down his face in frustration, weighing his options. As much as he desperately wanted to tell Bela to go screw, she was his best and only option at the moment, and his only foreseeable chance at being able to communicate with Cas.

“What do you want?” Dean asked. Grumbled, really. The last thing he wanted was to humor this chick further.

Bela's grin widened. “Well, I did mention I liked sex, didn't I?” 

Dean barked out a laugh. “Sweetheart, I'm pretty sure sex is out for the time being. Junior's off the table right now.”

“Is your mouth off the table?” Bela inquired. 

Oh. Oh, that. 

Dean grit his teeth as Bela leaned towards him, smiling brightly. “Come on, Dean. I could give you lessons, hmm? On both things,” she grinned. “Really, I'm being quite altruistic.” 

Dean groaned inwardly. Dean Winchester, ticklish, virgin, pet extraordinaire, was now also a cuckold. He hoped his sainted mother wasn't watching him now... 

He inhaled deeply, and then said, “Let's do it.”


	8. The Dog Park

Luckily, Bela wasn't at the daycare every day – just once or twice a week, when the maid had a day off. As Dean understood it, she had a habit of propositioning her owner's other pets, which made leaving her alone not ideal. The woman was a piece of work, that was for sure.

Between his “lessons,” Dean got a nice reprieve, during which he could make friends with other humans. Even the non-English speakers turned out to be friendly, and Dean had fun playing games with them on the small, ipad-like devices the supervisors provided them with to amuse themselves.

All-in-all, Dean's life was as uneventful as it ever had been. Until the dog park.

A couple weeks in, Castiel leashed Dean up (using a pink leash and collar, frustratingly. The guy certainly had a thing for pink. So did Dean, in all honesty, but he certainly wouldn't admit it) and drove him down to the surface of the planet.

When Dean realized where they were going, he was more excited than he had been in ages. The feeling of the dirt and grass beneath his toes was heavenly, and he'd forgotten how wonderful it was to feel the warmth of the sun instead of the electrical lighting back on the station. 

As far as Dean could tell, this was a dog park, albeit for humans and not for dogs. Owners sat around chatting, looking at papers and reading devices, while humans ran and played with one another. 

Dean was immediately greeted by at least ten humans, not all of whom spoke English, but all of whom greeted him warmly. A few hugged him. Like him, it seemed they'd learned not to forsake blessed human contact. 

He spent over an hour talking to them, playing catch with one of the balls provided, and all-in-all running around and laughing like an overgrown child until he got too winded and thirsty and had to excuse himself to take a break and go get some water.

It was only then that he noticed a very large and hairy human with thick arms and a studded collar was staring at him, sitting with his knees spread and arms folded atop a large rock.

Dean didn't think much of it till he trotted by, still sweaty from playing with the other humans.

“Hey. Hey, kid,” the dude said, causing Dean to pause. “C'mere a minute, will ya? I need to talk to you.”

Dean should have said no. The rock the guy was sitting on was obscured from Castiel's vision by a small cluster of pink and purple bushes, and if he turned out to be less than friendly, Cas wouldn't be able to protect him.

But while Dean would never have described himself as “naive” or “innocent,” the fact was that Dean had never in his adult life had experience with humans who wanted to do him harm. That had always been Alistair and his friends, or the fussy lady who'd occasionally spray him with a stinging vinegar solution if he ever tried to get on the furniture, or the creepy adolescent pet shop worker from when he was younger who used to hurt Dean sometimes just to listen to him squeal.

Humans meant safety, companionship, and camaraderie. Even ones like Bela, or the man who'd made him lay still while he jerked him off when he was still a teenager at the barracks. Both of which Dean didn't even know to register as wrong.

So none of the warning signs occurred to Dean as he curiously approached, wondering what the man had to say. 

He observed Dean with his head cocked, smirking and dominant. “Emerald guy, in the fancy robe,” he said, gesturing vaguely in Castiel's direction. “That your owner?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, that's Cas. Why, you know him?”

“No, no, just curious. Mine's back there,” he said, pointing to a very large and muscular lizard creature sitting on another bench, talking and laughing obnoxiously with some equally large and muscular friends. 

He looked Dean up and down appraisingly, giving him a nicotine-yellow smile. “Y'know, those are some cute little shorts you have there.”

Dean flushed. No one else had pointed out the panties today, and he'd almost allowed himself to forget about them. “Yeah, Cas makes me wear 'em,” Dean chuckled, trying to sound nonchalant about it. “I guess folks in these parts must not get that pink is for girls, huh?”

“I dunno. I like 'em,” the guy shrugged. “They suit you.”

Dean blinked as the guy got to his feet, approaching him with a slow, predatory swagger. He must have been over six and a half feet – it wasn't usual for another human to make Dean feel so small, and he didn't feel comfortable with it.

“Pretty panties. Perfect for a little bitch,” the guy informed him. His own attire consisted of studded, black leather shorts and some alien characters tattooed on his bicep. “You a little bitch, boy?”

Dean's flush migrated up to the tips of his ears. He had no idea how to respond to this – the closest he'd ever gotten to another human talking to him like this was his dad when he was drunk, or the time he'd been caught stealing a jar of peanut butter and some bread when he was nine. 

“Fuck you,” he managed, embarrassed and angry, and turned to leave.

Instants later, he found himself gagging as the guy took hold of him by the back of his collar and dragged him back again. “Oh no you don't,” Dean heard him chuckle. “You're not getting away that easily. You're the nicest piece of ass I've seen in this park in a long time.”

“Fuck,” Dean choked out, struggling vainly as the much larger human dragged him back over to the rock. “Help!” he managed, but the other humans were still too busy talking and playing amongst themselves to hear him, his voice drowned out by their chatter.

Dean soon found himself bent over the rock with his arms clasped behind him by one of the other human's large, roughened mitts.

“Been a long time since I had a fuck as pretty as you,” the guy muttered, palm rubbing over Dean's ass, slapping it. 

The moved between his legs, lightly squeezing his balls. Dean squirmed futilely, the action extra uncomfortable with his pent up release, tender after two weeks without orgasm. 

When he reached the plastic cock cage, he froze, chuckling darkly in Dean's ear. “Now what's this? Little whore been naughty, huh? Get your little clitty locked up?” 

Dean couldn't manage a response, eyes tightly shut as he tried to block out what was happening.

“That's okay,” said the man, moving back to rubbing at his ass and balls. “Fitting, even. Of course, you're here for my pleasure, not yours.” 

A wave of panic washed through Dean as he realized this was going to get worse. He renewed his struggles, eyes opening to see the man's owner and his friends watching them bemusedly, gator-like smiles on their faces. 

“Do something, you assholes!” Dean managed, thrashing uselessly beneath his stronger opponent. 

“They're not gonna help you, sweetheart: I do this all the time,” the man told him lightly. “They think it's funny, me treating little sluts like the bitches you are. Probably even get off on it, though I doubt they'd admit it.” 

Dean keened in despair. He could feel the man's hairy belly pressing him to the rock, his monstrous erection pressing into his ass through his shorts.

“Castiel!” he cried out in desperation. “CAS!”


	9. Animals

The guy had just wrestled Dean's shorts past his ass when he felt the weight pressing down on him dragged off by some inhumanly strong force. For all his bravado just instants before, Dean could have sworn he heard the dude yelp. 

He looked up just in time to see Castiel, teeth bared and more furious than Dean had ever seen him, hurl the guy onto the grass a few yards away. 

He was vaguely aware of the dude's owner approaching, saying something in his hissing, reptilian tongue, but neither Dean nor Cas seemed to care. 

“Castiel! Oh God, Cas,” Dean sniffed, turning around on shaky legs and allowing himself to be scooped up into Castiel's strong, reptilian arms. Never before had he been so happy to see his owner.

Dean buried his face into the smooth scales of Castiel's neck while he barked something at the owner of his attacker, who promptly hissed something just as venomous in response. The two fought it out for a moment or two before Castiel turned and marched them both back to the shuttle, grumbling to himself all the while.

Dean couldn't bring himself to look up to see if any of the other humans were staring, or if they had noticed the incident at all. He was too ashamed. He'd been taken advantage of in the past, sure, but nothing like that had ever happened to him before: to be held down like he really was nothing more than a bitch, unable to even fight back, seemed to him like the ultimate indignity.

John's drunken sneer while he compared Dean to a girl as a child flashed through Dean's mind, and he shook his head, valiantly trying to free himself of the image.

The air conditioned interior of the shuttle was a sweet relief to Dean. Cas gently set him down on the passenger's seat, where Dean promptly curled his knees into his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible. Only then did he notice how badly scratched and scuffed they were, probably from being dragged against the rock.

Cas carefully worked the seat belt around him (the carry case, luckily, seemed to be a thing of the past) making soothing sounds that comforted Dean even though he couldn't understand them.

Dean smiled up at him. “Thank you, Cas,” he said, sincerely. 

Castiel fell silent then, staring at him momentarily with an expression that was unreadable, before finally smiling back and ruffling Dean's hair. Finally, he powered on the shuttle and took off.

Dean felt grateful for having Cas as he drove home. He really was a good person, even if he was keeping Dean as a pet.

Granted, he couldn't fault him for that: he just thought he was an animal. He didn't know Dean was a person. 

 

… 

 

Was Dean a person? 

The question that jumped into Castiel's brain was as unexpected as it was ludicrous. Castiel knew that humans were less developed than they were, their brains more primitive. 

They were intelligent for animals, definitely – perhaps the most intelligent animals discovered so far, which was part of the reason for their popularity. As was their emotional capacity and ability to form bonds and show affection. But they were, without a doubt, animals. Not people. 

But none of this could contradict the fact that Castiel had heard Dean call out for him. He'd heard him call his name, or some shortened version of it. 

“Castiel, Cas.” The words had sounded alien in Dean's little human voice, interspersed with his usual chatter, but they were undeniably words. His name, no less. 

He'd heard of humans mimicking speech before, but all reliable sources said that was all it was: mimicry. None of it accounted for Dean calling out for help, or expressing relief at Castiel's presence. 

Castiel tried to push the unsettling train of thought from his mind as he went about the rest of his day. He gave Dean a bath as soon as they got home, carefully dressing the cuts on his knees, before doing some work on his home office and then making dinner.

Dean was uncharacteristically quiet throughout the rest of the day, probably in some kind of shock. Castiel tried to give him some space to recover, despite his desire to swarm Dean with affection. 

The thought of that brute of an animal assaulting his Dean, all while its owners did nothing to stop it, was still enough to fill him with fury. 

“It's nature,” one of them had insisted, utterly unapologetic. “You gotta let 'em fuck it out sometimes, you know?” 

Damn cretins. Some humans were just meant to be neutered.

That evening, after Castiel had had his own bath, he returned to find Dean curled like a shrimp on his pillow, discarded game beside him. 

Castiel turned the evening news to low before crawling in to face him, watching as his eyes moved beneath delicate pink lids.

Maybe the researchers were right. Maybe Dean wasn't a person.

But looking at him then, Castiel realized that he would never be able to think of him as an animal.


	10. The Milking Session

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments! You guys are lovely. <3

Castiel had been dreading their vet appointment with all his heart and soul, but that hadn't stopped it from approaching.

He observed Dean out of the corner of his eye as they flew, the little human looking out of the passenger's side window and watching the traffic and stars go by, unaware of where they were going.

Castiel knew that what the vet had done on their last visit was necessary, but it had left him feeling unclean somehow. He could still remember Dean's eerily expressive face after they'd locked him in the chastity device, the look of complete despair. He told himself this would be better, that he was only being milked this time so he wouldn't mind as much. In his heart, he already knew otherwise.

But as much as he hated it, it had to be done: the vet had warned of the risks of prolonged chastity without milking, including testicular cancer. Obviously, cancer could be fixed, but that wasn't an amount of money Castiel wanted to spend right now, and it would be even more painful and invasive for Dean.

Besides, he could tell Dean had been getting antzy from prolonged chastity: he'd woken up the other day to find Dean, still asleep and unconsciously humping the mattress.

No, this was necessary. And Dean would be happier because of it. 

At least, that was what he told himself as Dean seemed to realize where they were, and began desperately chattering and keening as they pulled into the docking port of the vet's building.

… 

Dean was thoroughly strapped down, naked, his feet in stirrups. The chastity cage had been removed, and under any other circumstances, that would be a dream come true. 

This last week (around ten days, in alien time) had been hell for Dean: his balls had ached, erotic thoughts invading his mind constantly that he couldn't do anything about. Bela, who'd delighted in his situation from the get go, certainly wasn't any help, a perpetual stream of dirty talk whenever he ate her out. 

Of course, she hadn't been much help with learning to write, either, only teaching him obscure words with no practical use in every day language. He wasn't sure if she was purposefully messing with him or not, but he knew he wouldn't ever establish communications with Cas by being able to spell “skunk cabbage.” 

Dean was abruptly jogged from his train of thought as he felt the vet breach his hole with a thick, latex-glove clad finger, slick with some kind of lube. Luckily, the vet kept his claws clipped, but that made things only marginally more pleasant.

“No,” Dean whined, already humiliated as he tried uselessly to scoot away. Obviously, the vet paid him no heed as he slicked him up and worked him open, hissing conversationally all the while to Castiel.

Dean closed his eyes and tried to block out the sensation. As always seemed to happen when his masculinity was threatened, Dean couldn't help but think of his dad, and what he might think of him now. He'd always said Dean was a queer.

To his absolute horror, Dean felt his cock start to fill, lifting ever so slightly. “Please don't,” he ground out, as if that could stop what was happening. He didn't want to get hard from something in his ass, especially not in front of Cas. He'd already suffered enough humiliations in front of him.

Thankfully, the vets slick finger was finally retracted, evidently judging Dean to be open enough.

Dean slumped against the table with a grateful sigh, but any relief he felt was abruptly cut short when he saw the vet retrieve a metal rod curving into what could only be described as the shape of a dildo. 

His eyes widened as he watch the vet apparently explain what it was to Cas, all while slicking it up with the same type of lubricant he'd used to work Dean open.

Once satisfied, he walked back over to Dean, lining the tip of the dildo up and beginning to push it carefully inside.

“No,” Dean grunted, thrashing as best he could, which wasn't very: the restraints on this table were much more thorough than the last one, and didn't seem designed to allow for much or any movement. “Fuck you, asshole. You're not doin' this to me. Oh, FUCK.” 

Dean thumped his head back as he felt himself being filled, pain and unwanted pleasure intermingling. This was degradation at it's finest: he was literally being treated like livestock. He didn't want to get off on it. 

Still, there wasn't much he could do when the dildo powered on, stronger than anything he'd ever felt. Dean let out a keen as the vet clinically shifted it around inside him until he felt it line up with his prostate. The keen turned into a wail as overstimulation flooded him, back arching against the operating table.

To his horror, he felt his cock start to fill, and he whimpered pathetically as he watched it rise like a traitor off of his belly. He wished at least his hands were free so he could do something to hide it, at least retain some semblance of dignity.

His cock expanded till there was nothing else to fill, quickly turning an angry shade of red. Dean looked just long enough to see the first drop of come forming on the tip as his prostate was massaged by the vibrations, plunking like liquid onto his lower stomach. 

Dean couldn't bare to watch any longer, face beat red as he turned his head away and shut his eyes. “Castiel,” he ground out in despair. “Cas!” 

 

…

“Is it normal for him to do that?” Castiel asked, trying not to listen to Dean's desperate voice keening his name.

“The vocalizing?” the vet chuckled, still working the vibrating rod into the human's little pink hole while he clenched and squirmed on the table, fruitlessly trying to get away. “Yes, it's only mimicry. Lots of humans do it.”

“It's my name, though,” Castiel pointed out. “And he definitely seems to associate it with me. In the park a few weeks ago, for instance, he was attacked by a much larger human who attempted to mate with him.”

“Which are why castration or chastity devices should be mandatory for all humans, in my opinion,” the vet said solemnly. “They simply can't control themselves.” 

“But Dean called out my name, doctor,” Castiel continued. “He called out for me to come and help him. And then after I arrived, he said it again. How could this be if he was only mimicking?” 

“Some humans learn to associate certain sounds with people, places, and objects,” the vet explained. “Some in their own 'language,' and some in ours. It's only natural.” 

Castiel considered pointing out that “associating certain sounds with people, places, and objects” could literally be described as a rudimentary definition of language, but decided that would come off as too catty. He knew he could be a bit confrontational sometimes, and he didn't want it to impede getting Dean's care.

So he bit his tongue and occupied himself stroking Dean's hair and trying to calm him as the vet finished the milking process.

Dean's little penis was impossibly stiff, and an almost painful shade of purple as it oozed built up white semen onto his belly. Dean looked down at it with pained, damp eyes, arms straining in their bonds and clearly wanting to touch it, cheeks flushed cherry red. 

The buzzing continued, and eventually, Dean's head thumped back in frustration, hips undulating as much as they could with his waist strapped down in an almost subconscious, liquid motion. 

Some part of Castiel couldn't help but find Dean beautiful like this, in such sheer, unbridled desperation, which confused him greatly. Why on earth was he enjoying his pet's suffering? He wasn't one of those perverts who got their kicks from having their humans suck them off.

Still, Dean's keens got more desperate, more musical, like a discordant melody on a flute. Then, his neglected penis pulsated once, twice, and spurted white semen all over Dean's chest and face. 

Castiel blinked in surprise, looking to the vet for explanation.

“Anal orgasm,” he explained, finally retracting the prostate stimulator from Dean's reddened hole. “Not terribly uncommon in human males. It's completely normal, Mr. Novak – and probably quite a relief for Dean here besides,” he assured him, peeling off his rubber gloves as he stood up.

Castiel looked at Dean. The human certainly didn't look relieved. If anything, he looked mortified, face still flushed and eyes closed tight, starting to sob even as he came down from his high. He turned his head to one side, as if attempting to hide from what had just transpired.

“Shhh, it's okay, Dean,” Castiel murmured, claws carding lightly through his short, sandy hair. “We're going home soon. You did so well.”

He felt dirty inside for having done this to his human. To a creature who trusted him enough to call out his name when he was in need. This didn't feel like a medical exam to him. If anything, this felt like some sort of rape.

The vet hadn't provided Castiel with a good answer to any of his questions. But, against all logic, Castiel never wanted to do this to Dean again.


	11. A Pet's Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In response to some recent comments, and due to the slightly darker nature of this point in the fic, I'd like to take the time to assure you all that the ending to this fic is a happy one for both Dean and Cas. I've already written it out, as I frequently do to avoid getting stuck in my stories, and not to spoil anything but it is decidedly hopeful (and not just in the "Dean accepts that he's a slave/pet and learns to live with it" way that I've seen from some other fics.) 
> 
> As always, I love you all and your amazing comments. Stay awesome, you guys! <3

“So, how was losing your cherry?” Bela inquired, eyelashes batting demurely.

Dean glowered dully at her. In spite of it all, Dean still didn't hate Bela, or even dislike her, really – something just told him that something really bad had happened to her at some point to make her like this – but he still wished she'd take his suffering a bit more seriously.

Dean had felt shaky and hollow ever since his last visit to the vet. Castiel's extra pampering, probably his way of trying to make up for it, hadn't helped much this time around, either: he couldn't bring himself to eat almost any of the sausages he'd given him yesterday, and the usually pleasant activity of bathing had only reminded him of his ordeal. He was grateful that Cas seemed to be respecting his desire not to be touched for the time being.

He felt so pathetic for having let that happen to him, like he really was just a little animal who couldn't control what was done to him or his body. Maybe that's all he ever was.

“It was horrible,” Dean told her flatly. “Now can we please just get this over with?”

“Okay, okay, darling. No need to get testy.” 

Today's word was “nail clippers,” spelled out in the sketching game on the alien phone device in a wobbly black line. Dean had tried being patient, but it was slipping rapidly. He wasn't sure whether Bela was stringing him along or not, but he didn't want to be toyed with any more than his life forced him to be already. As with most things, he didn't have many options in the matter. 

Dean blearily recreated Bela's sloppy alien character, and then wordlessly lay down on his back. He knew the drill by now. 

“Dean dear, you don't have to be so morose about it,” Bela told him, almost sounding like she cared. “It gets better with time, I know from experience. You get used to it. You just have to forget everything about who you thought you were on earth and realize that you're a pet. Only then will your life start to get better.”

Dean swallowed, staring at the ceiling. “Look, can we please just get this over with?”

In his peripheral vision, Bela eyed him, expression unreadable. “We can take a day off, if you'd like,” she offered. “You've earned it. Your skills have gotten much better lately.”

Dean closed his eyes. “Bela. Please,” he sighed. “I just want something to take my mind off it for a while.”

There was a long, moderately tense silence before Bela nodded.

Dean was vaguely aware of her shimmying out of her lacy green shorts, pretty in pink by the time she straddled him. The dirty talk was refreshingly absent today, as were the teasing hands gliding over his chest and nipples or caged cock, as she scooted up his torso, towards his face.

Her thighs were smooth and hairless, as Dean knew a lot of masters liked their pets (luckily, he'd never had much body hair to begin with), and Dean felt warmth pooling futilely in his groin as he breathed in the jungle scent of her.  
He closed his eyes, and ate.

…

Semi-disjointed memories of a time long passed danced through Dean's mind.

He'd been twelve at the time, but he'd already felt much older. All he wanted, all he'd ever wanted, was for his brother to feel like a little kid, just for a little while. If his dad had gotten his way, neither of them ever would have. 

He remembered sneaking out with Sammy, their father passed out and snoring on the sofa as they crept past, the warm summer air as they ran laughing through the meadow, grass wet and tickling their bare feet.

He remembered the explosions of color of the fireworks he'd stolen, the joy on Sammy's face, and that one moment when life was beautiful and everything was perfect.

He remembered the moment he registered that a new light was there, the light of the ship, that had overtaken them before they could even notice it and beamed them up before they even knew what was happening.

He remembered huddling together in the dark kennel, Sammy asking again and again if this was a dream, surrounded by crying children who were just as scared as they were.

And he remembered screaming his brother's name when they were finally pulled apart, separated for what may have been forever.

… 

Dean awoke with a jolt, curled up and shivering at the foot of Castiel's bed, the voice of the alien reporter low in the background. 

He'd been keeping his distance from Cas for the past few days, partially out of his desire to avoid being touched while he recovered from his ordeal, and partially just to give Cas the cold shoulder for allowing him to be put through that to begin with.

But now he couldn't help it. He needed some contact, some affection, some comfort – too many times had he woken up in Alistair's filthy kennel from dreams of Sam, with no one there to comfort him but himself. He couldn't even cry, knowing Alistair would just come out and kick the kennel until he shut up.

Wetting his lips, Dean scooted up the bed towards where Cas was sleeping, jaws lolled slightly open and showing his two rows of sharp white fangs and silver, three-pronged tongue visible. 

Some part of Dean recognized the surreality of seeking comfort from something so terrifying, but that didn't stop him from pressing his body as close to him as possible, seeking some semblance of warmth and comfort.

Castiel's eyes blinked open, catlike and luminous in the dark room. It took him a minute to register what was going on, but as soon as he did, he purred and wrapped his muscular arm around Dean's shoulders, pulling the blanket over him and allowing Dean to snuggle closer to the smooth expanse of his warm scales.

He pressed something that could only be described as a kiss to Dean's forehead, and Dean immediately felt days' worth of tension begin to vacate his body. 

Castiel murmured something that Dean couldn't understand, but something – maybe from his tone, maybe just intuition, maybe just Dean's desire to hear it – told him it was “I'm sorry.” 

And Dean couldn't help but murmur back, “I forgive you.”

As sleep overtook him, Dean's mind flashed back to what Bela had said. Maybe she was right, and he really did need to accept that he would only ever be just a pet, and he'd never be able to have any autonomy, dignity, or self-determination beyond that. It couldn't really be so bad, could it? And it couldn't be any harder than continuing to fight. 

Little did he know, in that moment, that something was about to happen that would change both of their lives forever.


	12. The Garden Party

Dean was decked out in more pink than usual, and sufficed to say he was pissed off. 

The frilly dress-type thing he was being forced to wear, falling only to around the top of his thighs, was bad enough, but being toted around like a lapdog on a leash at what appeared to be a fancy garden party-esque gathering among Castiel's fellow alien socialites was not his idea of a good time.

To make matters worse, there were two other humans there, two beautiful Hispanic women. They didn't seem to speak English, but Dean knew enough of the universal human language of mockery to gather that they found his outfit amusing. Theirs weren't much better, but at least they were in black and green instead of Dean's froufrou monstrosity.

Cas kept a claw constantly stroking his hair as if to sooth him, but it did little good, and the reptilians didn't seem to be bothered by Dean's sulking. If anything, they seemed sort of endeared by it, considering they kept stooping down over him and cooing at him like a pouty child before resuming their conversations with Cas.

Granted, it was better than getting beaten or anything similarly unpleasant, but the condescending treatment was wearing progressively thin. 

And he wasn't tall enough to reach any of the food, which was just adding insult to injury.

He wished Cas would bring him home so that he could at least be granted the privacy of their bedroom, some games to play, and maybe some sausages for dinner. But for now, all he could do was stand there while the reptilians chatted over him and make the best of it.

… 

“He's beautiful!” exclaimed Dorothy, a large female decked out in a somewhat psychedelic, multicolored toga. “What's his name?”

“Dean,” Castiel replied, claws still scratching absently through his pet's hair. “He's a rescue animal. They warned me he'd be skittish but he's usually very affectionate, and I count myself very lucky to have come across him.”

“Ooh, I'd love for him to meet my Charlie,” said Dorothy, practically tittering with excitement. Cas knew she was a naturalist, but it had never been more obvious that humans were her specialty. “It's so fascinating, to watch them interact. He and Charlie seem to be the same race, too, so it's more likely they might share a dialect.”

Cas squinted. Many things about the statement were strange, so he started at the beginning: “Race? How can you tell?” He'd never thought humans might have more than one subspecies before.

“Subtle differences,” Dorothy explained. “The most obvious is skin tone, but there are others as well, such as the shape of the eyes, or hair texture.”

“So, do all humans of Dean's race have speckles?” Cas inquired, growing curious as to how many subspecies of human they were.

Dorothy laughed. “No! Most races can have speckles, though with some it's more rare than others. In paler races, such as Dean's, speckles are a bit more common, as well as in mixed-racial humans.”

“I see.” Castiel paused, eyeing Dean thoughtfully. “And what's this about dialect?”

“As you may know, I've been devoting some of my free time to studying human vocalizations,” Dorothy told him. “And I've been fascinated to find that their languages are quite complex. Some even develop different dialects and regional accents, in much the same way the whales of certain planets do. Even their capacity for knowledge retention is impressive: I'd estimate my Charlie can understand at least a hundred of my words. Can you believe that?”

“That's wonderful,” said Castiel, feeling conflicted. On the one hand, he found Dorothy's enthusiasm about human intelligence infectious. On the other, he'd been spending far too much time lately debating the bizarre prospect of Dean's hypothetical personhood, and this definitely wasn't helping.

If he didn't quit soon, he was going to end up just like his crazy brother Gabriel.

Castiel decided to change the subject to something a bit more pertinent and less disconcerting. “Say: if you've been studying humans recently, I was wondering if you might consider doing me a favor.”

“Certainly,” Dorothy chirped.

“Well, it just so happens I have to make a business trip, for an interplanetary conference on Ridon III. That's a two week trip via shuttle,” he sighed, already wincing inwardly. He hated prolonged space travel. “Now, my greatest concern at the moment is what I should do with Dean: I don't feel comfortable with the prospect of leaving him alone yet, and his current daycare has proven less than trustworthy. I was wondering -”

“I would love to,” Dorothy blurted, cutting him off. 

Castiel blinked. “Well, I haven't even finished my sentence yet,” he pointed out. 

“You don't need to: I'd love for him to spend some time with Charlie so I can record their interactions. I've wanted a second human for this purpose for a long time now.” She reached down to scratch Dean's sandy hair, grinning. “So it just so happens your Dean here might be just what I'm looking for.”

“...Well, Dorothy, I don't know what to say,” said Cas, still processing. “This is a tremendous favor.” 

“Favor nothing,” Dorothy assured him, straitening up. “If anything, the person providing a favor here is you. And who knows?” she added, jokingly. “Maybe I'll even be able to teach your Dean a few new words.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In response to some questions:
> 
> 1) Gabriel is not the vet, but you'll find out the part he plays in all this by the end.
> 
> 2) We will find out what happened to Jo and Ellen.
> 
> 3) Cas has taken the padded gloves off of Dean by now, as he's had enough time to get used to the chastity device.
> 
> 4) Dean does have a collar, but just for when Cas wants to bring him out in public without risking him getting away.
> 
> 5) Though it's not mentioned, Dean has an identity chip that allowed the animal shelter to track Dean back to Alistair. They didn't return him, however, after they found out he'd been beaten/the extremely subpar living conditions.
> 
> 6) The aging serum effectively halts aging, making the recipients biologically immortal (like lobsters.)
> 
> 7) They probably will go back to a park, but not the same one, and Cas will be a lot more careful about leaving Dean unsupervised. 
> 
> As for the rest, you'll just have to wait and see. I'm loving all the comments, so keep 'em comin'! <3


	13. Dorothy's House

Dean was horrified. He wasn't sure what he'd done wrong, but all he knew for certain was that Cas was leaving him. Abandoning him with that large female from the alien garden party.

Her name, to him, sounded similar to 'Dorothy,' which had made him think of the Wizard of Oz. Which, in turn, had made him homesick for when he and Sammy used to watch it together. 

Sammy used to tease him about knowing the words to all the songs, and Dean had only pretended to be angry.

He hadn't thought much of it until a few days later, when he'd watched with horror as Cas had packed all of Dean's little pink outfits, his leash, his water bowl, the lizard plushy Cas had bought him the other day (that he'd unsuccessfully pretended not to like) into a suitcase and then driven Dean down to her apartment.

Dean watched in silent horror as the two of them exchanged greetings, both perfectly cheerful and oblivious to Dean's distress. 

…

“Remember to only use allergy sensitive soap, because he has very sensitive skin,” Castiel was saying, reading off of the mental list he'd formulated the night before and on the ride there. “And his favorite meat is Tarkarian Boar sausage, but make sure he doesn't eat too much. And he sometimes cries in his sleep, so if you could just cuddle him a little -”

“Castiel,” Dorothy chuckled. “Human specialist, remember? Everything I have here is premium equipment.” She smiled reassuringly at both of them. “I'm going to take good care of little Dean here. You have my word on it.” 

Cas sighed, looking at the human he was currently carrying on his arm. Dean was whimpering at chattering, clinging to Castiel's bicep. He longed to be able to talk to him, to tell him it would be alright. “Thank you, Dorothy,” he sighed. 

Dorothy smiled. “Why don't you come in and sit down? I'll make you something to drink for the road.”

“I'd like that,” Castiel conceded. Something hot and chocolaty would certainly brighten his mood, though he'd never admit to having a sweet tooth. 

He followed Dorothy inside, Dean still clinging desperately and making pitiful, sad chattering noises that made Cas long to be able to bring him along with him. 

Castiel gently nuzzled the little human's temple, already missing the feeling of his soft, warm body pressed up against his own.

“It's okay, Dean,” he murmured. “I'm not leaving you. Not for good.”

…

“Please don't leave me,” Dean whispered to Cas. “You're the best owner I've ever had.” 

Cas, of course, didn't understand a word he was saying, and only carded his claws absently through Dean's hair, as though he wasn't about to abandon him with a stranger.

“I don't know what I did, but I promise I'll never do it again,” he assured him, subconsciously leaning into the touch. “I need you, buddy.”

He closed his stinging eyes, frustrated with his inability to communicate. “I need you, Cas. Please,” he murmured, determined not to cry. “I don't wanna be alone again.”

“Well, you're not,” Dean jolted a little, turning to see a short, redheaded girl leaning in the doorway. She was wearing a sort of short, vest-type thing that obscured her hips and torso. 

“Who the hell are you?” 

“Bradbury. Charlie Bradbury,” she said, with a poorly executed English accent. “And you're Dean, I take it.” 

Dean's brow furrowed, arms folding as he looked at her skeptically. “How the hell did you know?” 

“I speak Reptile,” said Charlie, lightly. “Well, understand it, anyway.”

Dean sighed. He'd heard that one before. 

“You do?” he asked, humoring her. 

“Yup. And write in it pretty fluently, too,” she added.

Dean's eyes practically bugged out. “Y-you do?” His voice quavered this time.

“Dorothy's teaching me,” Charlie explained. “I know a lot more than I think she realizes, though: I can already read the comic book-type things she's been using to teach me. They're pretty good, even if it is kinda trippy that all the characters are reptiles.”

Ridiculous as it was, Dean felt his heart pounding. This could be it. This could be what he'd been waiting for.

“Will you teach me?” he blurted.

Dean braced himself, waiting for the ever-dreaded “it depends” he'd grown accustomed to with Bela, signifying he'd have to surrender something of himself. To barter, sexually or otherwise.

Instead, Charlie responded, “Sure. I mean, I'm not a teacher,” she added. “I was just getting out of college when they took me. But I'll do what I can.”

Dean stared at her. She said it so casually, like this hadn't been the very thing he'd been waiting for for months now. Maybe even longer.

Maybe now, maybe here, he could find a way to communicate with Cas. Maybe eventually he could even find Sam.

Maybe someday he could feel like a person again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, darlings! This semester's been kicking my ass just slightly more than usual. I love all your comments so much, and I'll be sure to get the next chapter up much quicker!


	14. The Separation

“Okay, repeat after me,” said Charlie, unnecessarily. He'd been here five days now, and he knew the drill.

Onto the small device – similar to the ones the reptiles gave them to play games with – she typed in a character from the special key pad, which produced a mono-syllable, reptilian sound. “Book,” said Charlie.

Dean typed in the same character. “Book,” he repeated.

Charlie typed in another character. “Fruit,” she said, evidently working her way down the list of items on Dorothy's nearby coffee table

Dean typed in the character.

“You have to say the word, too,” Charlie instructed him.

Dean rolled his eyes theatrically. “Come on, Charlie. Do I really gotta do that every time?” he whined. “I feel like I'm on friggin' Barney!”

“Yep. Saying words out loud helps you remember them better,” Charlie insisted. “Trust me. I haven't been a scientist's pet for God knows how long for nothing.”

Dean sighed again, but obeyed. "Fruit,” he grumbled, typing in the character again for good measure.

They completed the lesson as per usual (other words in this session including “pen,” "lamp," "bowl," "box," “computer,” “toy,” “cup,” and “coaster”), and then Charlie had Dean do it on his own, correcting him when he made a mistake.

“Alright, I think we've earned ourselves a break,” Charlie chirped, after their lesson had concluded. “I know for a fact Dorothy doesn't mind me eating her fruit, so how about a little bit of second breakfast, Bilbo?”

Dean grinned. “Sure, and I love you for that Tolkien reference.”

“I love you for getting it,” Charlie replied, punching him lightly in the arm as she skipped over to the coffee table.

Dean loved spending time with Charlie. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a sense of normalcy. When they weren't preoccupied with lessons, he could actually forget he was the pet of a hyper-intelligent race of lizards and have fun for a change.

It helped that Charlie had had a backpack full of books with her when she was captured, which she'd kept with her ever since. She'd even accumulated more by trading with other humans. Dean had never been so grateful to see a copy of _Slaughterhouse-Five._

To top it all off, he had learned more in these five days than he had in weeks of tutelage from Bela.

He remarked as such to Charlie once they were settled on the cushions by Dorothy's table, Dean's mouth full of succulent pink fruit.

Charlie wrinkled her nose at the mention of Bela's name. “Yeah, I've never even met this girl, and I can say with authority that I don't like her,” she stated, berries pocketed in one cheek like a squirrel. “I'm telling you, dude, what she was doing to you wasn't cool. That's sexual assault.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, a little sheepishly. He didn't dare repeat what he'd said last time the subject had come up – namely, that guys couldn't get sexually assaulted – because the lecture that had earned him had left his ears ringing for hours afterwards.

“It's not like I said no,” he pointed out instead. “I agreed to do it with her.”

“It doesn't matter. Sex isn't consensual if it's from coercion. Which makes it assault,” Charlie said firmly. “Trust me on this, buddy. I got my degree in gender studies before I was abducted.”

“I thought you were a computer science major,” Dean pointed out.

“I was. Double majors are a thing, bruh.”

The two ate in silence for a moment, before Charlie inquired, “Do you still miss him?”

Dean looked up abruptly. He hadn't mentioned missing Cas at all, and was a little taken aback that she knew.

“It's a rhetorical question. I saw you reaching for him last night,” Charlie informed him, wincing slightly. “You looked sad when you realized he wasn't here. It was kinda heartbreaking.”

Dean sighed, feeling a little exposed by the assessment. “You probably think I'm pretty fucked up, huh?”

“Now, why would I think that?” Charlie asked, stuffing another handful of berries into her mouth.

“Because I miss the dude who owns me,” Dean shrugged, taking another bite of his own fruit. “It's kinda pathetic, right?”

To his surprise, Charlie shook her head. “Cas is a good dude,” she surmised. “I could tell by how he was talking about you. He loves you a lot.”

Dean swallowed abruptly, nearly choking a little. The observation made his face turn unexpectedly hot.

“I mean, not necessarily in a sexy way,” Charlie added hastily, observing his reaction. “Not that that's a bad thing. Dorothy was studying this Earth movie, _The Shape of Water._ It kinda made me more open to the idea of interspecies sexytime.”

Dean stared at her vacantly.

“But he cares about you, is what I'm saying,” she continued. “I think he's got a lot of potential, if we can just get him to figure out how smart you are.”

Dean gave a short laugh. “Hey, if the criteria we're measurin' here is my smartness, I'm pretty sure we're screwed,” he told her. “I hate to break it to ya, but I'm dumb as dirt.”

Charlie gave him A Look. “Dude, you told me _Slaughterhouse-Five_ was your favorite book from when you were _twelve._ And you have an _unreal_ knack for retaining information.” She paused, then added, “I don't say this lightly, but you're almost as smart as me.”

“Shut up,” Dean scoffed, trying to cover up the pleasant flush of warmth the compliment gave him. He wasn't used to getting praised for his intelligence.

The two ate in silence once again.

After a minute, Dean conceded, “Yeah. Yeah, you're right.  I do miss him.”

“The queen is always right, princess,” Charlie informed him, smugly.

Ignoring the remark, Dean – feeling compelled to justify the statement – continued, “I just feel right when he's around me, you know? Like, this probably doesn't even make any sense, but...I feel like he'll take care of me, and protect me. And I know I make him happy. And that makes _me_ happy.”

Dean realized he was rambling, and trailed off, sheepishly. He was vaguely aware of Charlie staring at him in his peripheral vision, a sort of realization in her eyes, but she was nice enough not to remark on it.

“I'm sure he misses you, too,” she said instead.

Dean shrugged his shoulders, helping himself to another fruit. “I hope so.”

 

…

 

Castiel missed Dean. He had anticipated this since before he'd left him with Dorothy.

What had caught him off guard was exactly how much.

It had started as reaching out for him in the small bed of his shuttlecraft the first night, only to be met with disappointment when he realized he wasn't there. The same thing had occurred the second night.

The third night, things had gotten disconcerting, because that was when Castiel began to dream about him.

It started out innocently enough: Dean's happy chattering as he played, Dean greeting him in the kitchen as Castiel made him food.

The fourth night, things got a little more perverse: he dreamed of the way Dean's little body contorted as he tickled him, the almost breathy sounds he made. He dreamed of Dean's lush, fangless little mouth, eating from his hand. He dreamed of how soft he felt when Castiel gave him his bath.

Castiel had woken up with his penile sheathe uncomfortably tight, and disturbed at the realization that he was evidently somewhat aroused at a dream about his pet.

That evening, he'd tried viewing pornography to release some of the tension, but he couldn't seem to get into it: all he could find were overly muscular reptilian men doing unrealistically flamboyant mating dances, none of whom were in any way his type.

After thirty minutes of trying to find a video that would get him off, he turned it off, and decided to use his imagination instead.

He pealed back his sheath, allowing one of his hard lengths to spring free. He stroked himself, slowly, as he allowed erogenous imagery to seep into his mind.

_A body to rut against, small and lithe. Someone he could hold as he fucked them._

Castiel breathed deeply, letting pleasure consume him.

As a businessman, he had never had time to think seriously about a mate, nor had he particularly wanted one. Similarly, masturbation was fairly easy to forget with his busy schedule.

To put it bluntly, he had a lot of pent up energy.

_His clawed hands running over a soft, pliant little body, flecked with light brown speckles. Scaleless skin still pink and warm from his bath._

Castiel wasn't coherent enough by this point to care where his thoughts were going.

_A plump, round little ass, adorably speckled and tailless. Pink little hole stretched around his cock. Mewling out Castiel's name between soft, breathy chatters._

Cas groaned softly, his penis now slick.

_Pink, plush lips nibbling one of his dicks, while soft, clawless little hands worked another. Round, pink little tongue giving him soft, kitten licks._

He worked his dick faster, harder in his hand.

_Holding Dean's hands over his head, his forked tongue wrapped around his straining little penis as Dean moaned his name in pleasure._

_His tongue invading Dean's pink little hole, his clawed hands comparatively huge as they spread apart those plush little cheeks._

_Dean's voice moaning, begging for more._

_Dean's soft, warm body._

_Dean._

_Dean._

_Dean._

“Dean,” Castiel moaned out, back arching as white hot pleasure overtook him, the force of his orgasm coursing through his whole body.

It was only as he came down from his pleasurable high, boneless and breathing heavily, that he realized what he had just done: he'd masturbated, and reached orgasm, while fantasizing about his own pet. An innocent little creature who probably couldn't give Castiel consent if he wanted to.

As Cas stared at the ceiling in abject horror, it occurred to him that he wasn't going to be as bad as his crazy brother Gabriel.

He was already significantly worse.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had some people express concern that this fic was abandoned, and I promise it's not! I will never abandon this (or any) fic, though my busy schedule puts delays on updates. 
> 
> School, work, and my "serious" projects (i.e. original writing, beta readers, and the query process) have been eating my time. But rest assured, more updates are coming. 
> 
> I read and love all of your comments, and they give me joy and life. Keep it up, lovelies. <3


	15. The Reunion

Cas had expected many things when he came to pick up Dean, but he didn't expect to find Dean talking.

To back up a little, the conference was every bit as tedious as he expected it to be. Castiel loved his job because it allowed him to interact with numbers and statistics, not people. This semi-annual conference, filled with a diverse array of species all politely expressing their passive-aggressive distaste for one another, was an unfortunate exception to the rule.

He was all too happy to return to his home world, and happier still to collect Dean. He worried Dean might not remember him after two weeks absence, but the rational part of his brain said that this was unlikely.

The first sign that anything was out of the ordinary was Dorothy, who greeted him like a child on Christmas morning. 

“Castiel. You're right on time,” she said, clearly struggling to behave like a professional despite the fact that she was clearly tittering with excitement. “I have something to show you.”

Castiel, being the anxiety-prone individual he was, immediately assumed the worst. “He got Charlie pregnant?”

Dorothy blinked, staring blankly at him. Then, she burst out laughing. “NO!” she chortled. “For God's sake, Castiel. Charlie has only expressed attraction to female partners, and I don't think Dean's doing anything through that, um...” 

“Chastity device?” Cas suggested.

“Yes, that,” said Dorothy, a hint of disapproval creeping into her tone. “I never did like those things. Studies show that they can cause unwanted stress and discomfort for humans.”

“Oh?” said Cas, a little concerned. “Well, the vet said –” 

“But we'll discuss that later,” Dorothy interrupted, talking more to herself than to Cas. “In the meantime, get in here! This is HUGE, Castiel. I'm writing a paper about this!”

Castiel tentatively followed her inside, curious as to what she was talking about. 

He felt a rush of warmth in his chest, like a cold knot being undone, when he saw Dean. Dean was sitting, cross-legged, on the floor with Charlie, both of them holding two small computer pads in their hands.

When Dean saw him, his eyes widened, and he chattered happily – Cas made out his own name at least once – beginning to get to his feet.

Dorothy, however, stopped him with a hand gesture. “Just one second, sweetie. Daddy's going to bring you home in just a minute,” she informed him, in a childish tone of voice. “First you're gonna show him what you learned.”

Castiel's brow furrowed. “Dorothy wha-” 

“Sssshh!” she shushed him, excitement clearly getting the better of her.

“Dean,” she said, enunciating clearly. “Say 'hello' to Castiel.” 

Castiel couldn't have been more confused by this point, but Dean seemed to understand perfectly. He carefully typed something into his pad, and then the voice of the computer said, “Hello, Cas.”

Cas arched his eye-ridges. 

“Well?” inquired Dorothy, grinning broadly. 

“Well, that's a very clever trick, Dorothy,” he said, trying to cover up how taken aback he was. “How did you do such a thing?”

“Oh, I didn't do anything,” Dorothy told him, practically jumping up and down. “Charlie did!”

“...You've lost me.” 

“You see, every day, I left them alone with these pads to keep them busy while I got my work done,” she explained. “It took me a few days to realize what was going on: Charlie's been coaching him in Reptilian! She's been teaching Dean to talk!”

If Castiel's jaw could have hit the floor, it would have. 

As if to prove her point, Dorothy instructed, “Dean: what food do you like?” 

Dean brightened, and immediately typed in, “Sausages.”

Dorothy gestured to him pointedly, beaming. “You see!? I've already told my researchers about this, and they want to publish a paper on it by the end of the month,” she grinned. “I'm glad I figured out what was happening when I did, so I could record it and take notes. This is HUGE for research on human intelligence, Castiel. HUGE.” 

Cas said nothing. He just stared at Dean vacantly, still processing what was going on.

“On that note, I need to ask you something,” Dorothy continued, clearly trying to school her demeanor into something more civil. “You said Dean's daycare isn't terribly trustworthy, correct?”

“Hmm?” It took Castiel a moment to register the question. “Oh! No, I'm afraid they aren't.”

“Well, in a way, that's fortuitous,” said Dorothy. “Because I was hoping we could turn this research into something more long-term.” 

“What do you mean?” asked Castiel. He wanted to see how much of their language Dean could master, but he knew he couldn't bare leaving him here any longer than necessary. 

“Oh, you'll take him home with you, of course,” she assured him, seeming to read his mind. “But I was thinking, while you worked, instead of dropping him off at the daycare...” 

“I could bring him here instead,” Castiel concluded, brightening up at the notion. It would be nice not to have to worry about that aggressive female or negligent supervisors anymore.

“Exactly,” smiled Dorothy. “I know my supervisors want more research done, and your Dean could be a part of an exciting scientific breakthrough. What do you say?”

“I say that's a wonderful idea,” Castiel replied, honestly. “And I would very much appreciate the service. Thank you, Dorothy.”

“Don't thank me,” Dorothy huffed. “If anything, I should be thanking you! This is truly amazing, Castiel. I've never seen anything like this.” 

She paused, then lamented, “Oh, look at me, I'm a monster. Keeping you two apart.” She lightly smacked her own forehead, shaking her head. “You can go to Dean now, Cas.” 

Cas couldn't obey fast enough. 

He stooped to pick the human up in his arms, feeling the warmth of his soft, scaleless body like he'd been longing to for two weeks' time. 

Well. Perhaps longing a little too much, but Cas wasn't going to think about that now. 

Dean looked up at him, expression difficult to read, and then looked to Charlie, who gave him a nod.

Dean swallowed. He typed something into his pad. The voice said, “I missed you.”

He looked up at Cas with wide green eyes, and Castiel felt something in his heart squeeze. 

He was more certain than ever that there was a person behind those eyes. 

“I missed you too, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in two days! I'm taking advantage of spring break and making up for lost time. <3


	16. Change

“So this is good, huh?” Dean remarked, mouth full of sausage. “We're finally breakin' the language barrier. It's about fuckin' time.” 

It was a couple months into Dorothy's research, and he and Charlie had just concluded their most recent session.

Dean liked being at Dorothy's house. It was on the surface, which meant he got to walk around in their garden – he'd missed feeling the warmth of the sun, the grass under his bare feet. Sometimes, he could close his eyes and pretend he was back on Earth. 

Today, of course, there would be none of that. Rain pattered on Dorothy's windows in fat drops, which was satisfying in its own right. Dean hadn't realized how much he missed the rain.

“Pretty soon,” Dean continued, pausing to swig down some of the fruit juice Dorothy had given them before reaching for another sausage. “I reckon they're gonna start realizing we're people.”

Charlie sighed, biting into one of her own preferred meals, some kind of drumstick similar to chicken. “Doubt it.”

Dean paused, sausage pocketed in his cheek. “Come again?”

“I mean, they're gonna figure out we're humans eventually,” she shrugged. “But social progress takes time, y'know? Like, you were taken when you were twelve, so you probably didn't get a sense of it, but, like. Did you know they only just legalized gay marriage, like, four years ago? And they knew black people could read and write, but that didn't stop people from treating them like animals. It took generations to change that.”

“Yeah, but...” Dean frowned, considering it. “This is different.”

“Is it?” Charlie scooted to face him. “Back on Earth, there was this parrot named Alex. Researchers taught Alex to talk, about as well as a preschooler. He could ask for food, ask where they were going, respond to questions, the whole nine yards. When he died, his last words were, 'you be good, I love you.'”

Dean blinked. “Wow, that's...”

“Heartbreaking as eff. Believe me, I know,” Charlie agreed. “Now, I'm not saying we're parrots compared to them. But I am saying that that's how they're probably perceiving the situation right now: we're cute, intelligent little animals. They can love us. They can care about us. A lot of them do. But we're still animals to them.”

There was a moment of silence as Dean pondered this.

Charlie continued, “Maybe I'm wrong. Trust me, I hope I am. But I'm just saying, change takes time, you know? We've gotta be patient.”

Dean considered it. Finally, he said, “Yeah, I know, but...I still feel like we can convince just a few of them, you know? Just one or two. I feel like if just a couple of them know we're people, we'll be okay.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Shit, I'm not making any sense, am I?”

“No. No, I understand completely,” Charlie assured him. “You just want to be heard, right?”

It was a strange way of putting it, and it took Dean a second to process. But the sentiment rang true.

“Yeah,” he conceded. “Yeah, I wanna be heard.”

For a little while, the two of them ate in silence.

Eventually, Charlie grinned, punching him in the arm. “Hey. At least with the anti-aging medications, we don't have to worry about getting old and gray waiting for change, right?” she winked. “We've got all the time in the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another (small) update! I'm on a roll, people.


	17. A New Normal

Life over the past two months had been...interesting. 

For the most part, nothing had changed – in terms of his career, his daily habits, his fondness for Dean – but Castiel couldn't ignore the fact that he now had a pet who was slowly learning to talk.

Every day, Dean could understand and respond to Castiel more and more coherently, and it frightened him, just a little. 

It frightened him that Dean was in a liminal space between person and pet, inching steadily towards the former with each passing day. It frightened him that he could no longer dismiss his feelings towards him as fondness for a charming animal. 

When he slept with Dean in his arms, he was beginning to realize, he slept with a person in his arms. When Dean cried in his sleep, snuggling closer to Castiel for warmth and comfort, the squeeze he felt in his chest was directed at a person. Every rush of warmth he felt inside of him when Dean showed him affection was him, Castiel, having feelings for a person.

A person who happened to be Castiel's pet.

That concept frightened him.

Still, apart from this brewing internal conflict, little changed. And Castiel was content with that. 

Today, it was Castiel's day off, and he was relaxing in his living room and reading a novel on his computer pad, basking in this rare moment of peace and quiet. Outside, the globe of his home world looked tranquil, the chatter and chaos of his fellow sentient beings far off. Just how he liked it. 

He was eventually brought back to earth, so to speak, by the feeling of a small weight crawling into his lap.

He smiled when, as predicted, he was greeted by Dean's wide green eyes – so similar to his own scales, to the tranquil surface of his planet – staring up at him. Cas unthinkingly reached out to stroke Dean's short, soft hair, liking the way the little human had begun to lean into his touch when he used to shy away.

“Hello, little one. How are you feeling?”

It didn't even occur to him what an odd question that was for one's pet. Particularly now that Dean could answer.

He typed in, “Good,” and then, “Charlie send comic books.”

“I see. You like looking at the pictures?” Castiel enunciated clearly and used simple words, knowing it was the best way for Dean to understand him.

“Yes,” Dean typed. “I get better at reading. Words make sense now.”

Cas nodded, concealing his slight unease at the statement. He'd heard studies about the “language” in which humans conveyed written information, but all of them had implied it to be primitive and not nearly on par with the literature of an intelligent, sentient species. By that logic, Dean shouldn't be able to grasp their written language any more than he could their spoken one. Yet here he was, doing both. 

Dean himself jogged Castiel from this proverbial rabbit hole. “Dinner soon?”

Cas chuckled. “Yes, soon.” He decided not to elaborate that he was ordering out today, as Dean tended to get confused by longer sentences. “Dorothy has been feeding you a lot?”

Dean typed, “Yes.” He paused, as if thinking of the right words, and then, “She give me reward. Lots of reward.” 

“I can tell.” 

Dean's brow furrowed endearingly. “How?” he typed.

Instead of answering verbally, Castiel simply reached out a claw and lightly prodded the layer of pudge that had developed under his belly button.

Dean's reaction was immediate and comical. His eyes went wide and his mouth opened in a look of offense, which quickly morphed into fury. Instead of bothering with a typed-in response, he punched Castiel in the arm.

“Ow,” said Cas, just so he wouldn't feel bad. The punch hadn't hurt at all.

Dean kept up his assault, but Cas easily caught his wrists, tugging him up so he was resting on his torso. 

“I didn't say it was bad,” he said, smiling reassuringly into Dean's still-sulking face. “I think it's adorable.”

Dean flushed a little at the remark, anger slipping from his face. 

“You're perfect, Dean,” Cas reiterated, for good measure. “Everything about you is beautiful.” 

Dean's flush intensified, and he hid his face against Castiel's chest. Cas chuckled as he stroked Dean's hair, his human's cuteness temporarily sparing him from acknowledging to himself that this wasn't the sort of thing one would say to a pet.

At least, not the way Castiel had said it.

“Stay with me a while,” Cas told him. “I'll order dinner once I finish this chapter.” 

Dean nodded, minutely scooting into a more comfortable position leaning against Castiel's chest. He went back to his comic book for a moment or two before looking thoughtful, and pulling up the keyboard app again.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel murmured, claws carding absently through Dean's hair. 

“I go to daycare tomorrow?” 

Castiel paused, glancing up questioningly. “Dean, you know you don't go to daycare anymore. Now you stay with Dorothy, remember?”

“I know,” Dean typed. “Just once. Short. Then we go.”

“That could be arranged, Dean,” Castiel conceded, after a moment's hesitation. “But why?”

Dean sighed. His expression, from what Castiel could see of it, was one of solemn duty. 

“Someone there,” he typed. “I need to say goodbye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone was wondering how Charlie knew gay marriage was legalized: Dorothy studies human media as part of her research, and word travels among the more recently captured humans (as the vet mentioned, harvesting humans from earth was only recently illegalized) so astute humans like Charlie can piece together current events. 
> 
> On an unrelated note, the number of people happy to see me updating again warms my heart. Love you guys! <3


	18. Return to the Daycare

When Dean arrived there, Bela was talking to some girl. She was young – maybe sixteen, seventeen or so – but her body language was relaxed, devoid of the skittishness he'd seen in newly captured humans. Dean guessed she'd been born into captivity, or at least, recruited extremely young.

He couldn't tell what Bela was saying to her, but based on her conspiratorial posture, it was nothing good. Dean was wising up to her game.

“Bela,” he called. “Bela!”

Bela looked up. If she was surprised to see him, the only indicator of such was a slight arch of her eyebrows. She said something inaudible to the girl, before getting up and sauntering towards him with her trademark, white-toothed smile.

“Well, hello there, old friend.”

 

…

 

The next twenty minutes were spent bringing Bela up to speed on everything that had happened over the past few months. He told her about Dorothy and Charlie. He told her about the research paper Dorothy and her fellow researchers were writing about him. About how well he was learning to write, to understand their language.

He didn't know why he wanted Bela to know so badly, but nothing had deflated his hope more than those useless, degrading “lessons” he'd taken during the time they spent together. Part of him just wanted her to know that it wasn't true, that there was hope. That the reptiles could eventually see humans for the sentient beings they were.

Bela listened, expression unreadable. Finally, she said just one thing.

“So, two months without the vet?” she inquired, indicating his cock cage. “You must be feeling quite pent up.”

In spite of himself, Dean flushed, averting his eyes. “Cas's left me alone in the bath a few times,” he muttered. “While he took calls, or whatever. He knows I'm not going to drown, but he takes off my cage before he washes me. So I...y'know.” He shrugged. “It's not much, it's only been a few times over the past couple months, but it's kept me from losin' it.”

Bela nodded. “I have a few minutes,” she said, in that familiar, coy tone of voice he'd come to dread. “And I can nick a nail file from the grooming station. If you'd like, I could try to pick the lock, and we could have a little – ”

“Bela, what the hell,” Dean couldn't help but blurt. “Is that all you care about?”

She shrugged her shoulders, unrepentant. “Essentially, yes. We're stuck here forever, Dean,” she explained. “We're _animals._ Pets, cute little novelty items. We're never going to have lives, or families, or friends; none of those simple pleasures that people back home so take for granted, that give them a reason to get up in the morning. So my philosophy is, why not enjoy the ride and have a little fun on the way?”

Dean stared at her, making an incomprehensible sputtering sound. “But I just said I'm learning to read,” he stammered. “We'll get to tell 'em we're people, Bela. Don't you get that?”

“Dean, I _can_ read,” said Bela, flatly. “And write, a lot better than you can. I've had years of experience. And I've been where you are.”

Dean could only listen, not at all sure he liked where this was going. “When I first learned to read, do you know what my master did, when he found out about it?” she continued. “He used it as a party trick, to show off to his poncy friends. And kept using me as a sex doll behind closed doors.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I got back at him by telling everyone he was doing it. There was no coming back from that, even if no one would take the word of an animal with a keyboard app as gospel. So, he beat me within an inch of my life, and sold me.”

Dean swallowed. “Bela, I'm sorry. I had no idea.”

Bela scoffed quietly. “You're sweet,” she told him, with a patronizing pat on the cheek. “In any case, when my current master bought me, I made a promise to myself that I would never try to be a human being again. There's no dignity in it. You'll get made into a monkey on parade, a spectacle, like an ape in human clothing. It's better to just accept what you are.”

Dean was quiet. He could see now that there would be no convincing Bela. And he had other questions to ask.

“Bela, it's your business if you wanna feel that way,” he said quietly. “But I gotta ask: why...why use me all those months, if you never planned on helping me at all?”

“You have pretty lips,” replied Bela simply, without remorse or hesitation. “You turn me on. And I had no reason not to, after all.” At Dean's look of blank confusion, she gave him a condescending smile. “Animals, dear, have no use for morality. It's better to just take what you want and do what pleases you.”

Dean stared at her. He knew he should probably be angry, but all he could feel was pity. What a squalid existence that must be.

“See you around, Bela.”

With that, Dean got to his feet, and padded towards the door.

Passing Bela's young friend, Dean could see now that she was younger than he'd initially thought. Probably at least a decade before she'd be put on anti-agers.

“Hey. You friends with Bela?” he asked her.

“I guess,” the girl shrugged, absently playing a game on her pad. “She's cool. Way cooler than anyone back at the kennels.”

“Yeah. Well, that's good, 'cause she needs one,” Dean sighed. “But my advice? Be careful around her. You trust her too much, and you'll wind up with a metal cage on your crotch and a vibrating cow-prod up your ass.”

Dean didn't wait around to see what the girl's reaction was, though in a better mood, he was sure he would find it comical. He just walked towards the exit where Castiel was waiting, reading something to pass the time.

Seeing Dean, Castiel gave him one of those familiar crocodile grins Dean had come to find so comforting.

“ _Hello, little one,_ ” Castiel rasped, in his reptilian tongue. “ _Are you ready to go home?_ ”

Dean nodded earnestly. Was he ever.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finally finished my last semester! I'll be starting grad school in a few months, but for the time being, I'll have a lot more time to write.
> 
> To those expressing concern that 21 is the final chapter, this fic will probably be the start of a series, so no need to worry!


	19. Show Animal

Sometimes it struck him anew, how much his perspective of Dean has changed.  

Tonight, it hit him at another tedious, work-related party.  It was made significantly more pleasurable because he brought Dean along to show off, however, dressed in some adorable new clothing he just bought for him.  It featured an apron-type garment with a pocket in the front, just large enough to hold Dean’s pad, so he could “speak” whenever needed.

At the moment, he stood in a small circle of his compatriots, Dean sitting in the crook of his arm, while Castiel proudly explained the research he was involved in.

“It could change the way human intelligence is perceived,” he explained.  “Dean and his involvement in the study have already been featured in several peer-reviewed research papers.”

His enthusiasm was dampened somewhat by the grating laugh of Zachariah, one of his least favorite coworkers.  “Research papers?” he exclaimed. “Castiel, a pet that cute could easily be a show animal, or be used as breeding stock!  There’s good money in that, you know.”

“Yes, well.  I’m not lacking in money, and I feel as though this is much more beneficial,” Castiel explained politely, trying not to sound terse about it.

“Let’s hear some of these communicative skills, Cas,” chimed in another coworker, Raphael.  “Can he speak now?”

Castiel nodded.  “Dean, could you take out your pad?”  he asked the human, speaking slowly and clearly. 

Dean did so, and Cas couldn’t help but wonder how much of the conversation he’d been following.  It made him feel oddly uncomfortable to think that Dean could hear Zachariah speaking about him in such a manner.

“Go ahead,” he instructed his companions.  “Ask him a question. Simple and easy to understand is preferable, but his comprehension skills are getting a lot better, so you can ask him pretty much anything.”  

The coworkers tittered amongst themselves for a moment, before Uriel spoke up.  “What’s your name, little fellow?”

Dean typed out, _“I am Dean.”_  

“Impressive!”  conceded Zachariah.  “Let’s try this one: who’s your owner?”

_“Castiel,”_ typed Dean, easily.  These were some of the first words he’d learned, and they were clearly becoming habit for him. 

“Do you like Castiel, Dean?”  inquired Raphael.

_“Yes,”_ Dean answered.

“And why is that?”  Raphael pressed, clearly enjoying this.

Dean thought for a moment, before typing carefully, _“He is kind.  Takes care of me.”_ He paused, before adding, _“Gives good cuddles.”_

Castiel felt a flood of warmth in his chest at the answer, even if it was perturbed somewhat by annoyance at the raucous laughter from his coworkers that resulted from it.

Dean clearly regretted answering so candidly, because he turned a lively shade of red and hid his face against Castiel’s shoulder.  The action caused Castiel’s compatriots to laugh even harder.

Something in Cas wanted to bark at them for their rudeness, but he knew that wasn’t socially acceptable and would make him look like a lunatic.  “I suppose he’s feeling shy,” he said instead, forcing a pleasant expression as he changed the subject. “In any case, how are your personal lives going?  Zachariah, how’s your spouse?”

The resulting groan and eye-roll that followed told Castiel that Zachariah would be complaining about his love life for a good long while.  And for once, that was a good thing.

 

…  

 

_“Am I going to be ‘show animal?’”_ Dean asked later.  

He was sitting on the bed, still wrapped in a towel as Castiel sorted laundry and got ready for the next day.  

He scowled at the inquiry.  “You heard that, did you?”

_“Some of it,”_ Dean responded.   _“Hard to understand. They talk fast.”_

“Well, you needn’t worry,” he sighed, hanging up a toga.  “Zachariah is...pompous. Bombastic. I don’t care for him very much.”

This seemed to placate Dean somewhat.  After a moment, he typed, _“They were a bunch of dickheads.”_

Castiel nearly snorted, doubling over with laughter.  “Dean,” he managed, once he’d recovered himself somewhat.  “Where did you learn that word?”

_“Charlie,”_ Dean shrugged.   _“She_ say _,_ Dorothy _swears very much when working.”_

Cas snickered at the prospect.  “Yes, well. You are correct; they are...dickheads.”

There were a few moments of silence as Castiel finished his work.  He sighed as he stooped to pick up Dean’s chastity cage and pajama pants. 

“Alright, Dean.  Time for bed,” he said, as he began to approach him.

Dean scooted backwards, eyeing the chastity cage warily. _“Please, not that,”_ he typed.

“Dean, you know it’s for your own good,” Castiel informed him.  “The vet said --” 

_“The vet is a dickhead,”_ Dean typed out, interrupting him. _“He not know what he talks about.”_

Castiel closed his eyes.  “I’m going to have a long talk with Dorothy for teaching you that word,” he muttered.

_“I wear that cage for months, Cas,”_ Dean continued, desperation in his eyes. _“It hurts.”_

Cas felt a wave of sympathy at that, even though he knew Dean occasionally pleasured himself in the bathtub.  Once Cas realized he was doing it, he had started purposefully making phone calls during that time to give him the chance to do so.  Somehow he knew Dean would not be consoled by this information, however, so he kept it to himself.

Evidently encouraged by his silence, Dean continued, _“I am not ‘show animal,’ Cas.  I am_ person _. I think, like you. I feel, like you. I have_ soul _, like you.”_

Castiel stared at him.  This was something he had suspected for a long time, but to hear Dean assert his own personhood was surreal and jarring.

_“I am_ person _,”_ Dean typed again, his eyes welling over.  It was evident that this had been weighing on him for a long time;  probably long before he knew Cas. _“Not animal. I want control over my body.  I do not want cage. Please.”_

Dean couldn’t seem to type any more, clearly overwhelmed and starting to cry.  Castiel’s heart broke, and he tossed the cage off to the side.

He crawled into bed, scooping Dean’s naked body into his arms.  “Hush, Dean,” he murmured soothingly. “It’s alright. You won’t have to wear it anymore.”

The pad was now discarded on the bed, so Dean couldn’t answer, but he threw his arms around Castiel’s neck in gratitude. 

Castiel closed his eyes.  He would never get over how small and fragile Dean felt in his arms.  What a precious creature.

“Oh, Dean,” he murmured, unthinkingly.  “I love you so.”

If Dean was surprised by the statement, he gave no indication of it.  He just clung to Castiel’s neck like he never wanted to let go.

Castiel lay down on his side, holding him close until they both fell asleep.

 

…

 

Castiel’s sleep was short lived.  

He woke two hours later, to the not unwelcome sensation of something rutting against him, small and naked and rock hard. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some hardcore smut coming in the next chapter, lovelies! And to everyone asking about Sam, don't worry; we'll hear from him before the fic is through, and he'll probably play a larger role in the sequel!


	20. An Unexpected Experience

Castiel had woken before to Dean humping the bed in his sleep, which was usually his cue that he was feeling pent up and needed some alone time in the bathtub.

This time, however, was unique.  

Because tonight, Dean had no cock cage, and Castiel could feel his hard little prick pressed against the smooth scales of his belly, his hips rocking in short, desperate motions.  

Castiel’s arms were still wrapped around Dean’s shoulders from when they’d gone to sleep, holding him close, and now Castiel was very aware of the little human’s soft, warm body pressed against his own.

Cas knew he should have said something, done something, to wake him.  But instead, he found himself transfixed by what he was looking at: Dean’s face, baby soft and scaleless, flushed with unconscious lust, eyes twitching beneath delicate lids.

When Cas became aware of the sounds he was making, the high, breathy mewls, he couldn’t help it:  he felt his own members engorge beneath their sheath. All he wanted was to pin Dean to the bed, to hold his arms above his head, and to rut against him until he found his relief, but Cas knew how wrong that would be.

Instead, he shook him gently.  “Dean,” he murmured. “Dean, wake up.”

Dean blinked open his eyes, lifting his head drowsily.  A line from the blanket had left a soft indentation on the flesh of his cheek.

At the realization of what he was doing, he adopted a more alert look, and his eyes went almost comically wide.  The dark red coloration of his face darkened, but he didn’t look afraid. Just flustered and embarrassed. They’d come so far since those early days.

Castiel was still holding Dean in his muscular arms, and the human’s little erection was still pressed firmly against him, sandwiched between both of their bellies.  It added fuel to the fire of Castiel’s own arousal that the human was so helpless like this, so vulnerable, yet unafraid. He trusted him so completely, knew Castiel would stop he wanted him to.  

“You’ve been pent up, haven’t you, Dean?”  Castiel found himself saying, his voice low with arousal.  “I see now, I haven’t let you out of your cage enough. Have I, little one?”

Dean shook his head, effective mute without the use of his pad.  He could feel Dean’s heart fluttering faster, but still, there was no sign of fear;  only mutual arousal.

Cas clucked his tongue.  “I see now, I have been negligent in my duties as your master,” he continued regretfully.  “I could leave you alone, to take care of this on your own…” 

He watched Dean’s face carefully, pleased when he saw a hint of disappointment.

He grinned, and continued, “Or, I could do this.”

Dean gasped at the feeling of Castiel’s huge paw wrapped gently around his turgid little cock, his entire body going tense and flush migrating to the tips of his ears.  

“Would you like that, little one?”  Castiel inquired, voice now lowered to a growl.  “Nod if you would.” 

Dean only hesitated an instant, before nodding his head.  Castiel felt a rush of excitement in his chest.

“I have been waiting for this,” he whispered, peeling back the blankets, “for so long.”

 

…

 

Dean was simultaneously frightened and aroused at what was happening, heart hammering in his chest as he watched Castiel’s huge, muscular form crouching over him.  

Without the blanket, he was completely exposed, lying prone with his erection pulsating against his abdomen.  He felt so vulnerable like this, and somehow that only turned him on more. 

It was all so confusing.  Dean had long since realized that he enjoyed how small he felt next to Cas, enjoyed how Cas took care of him, but he never realized he would enjoy it in a sexual way.  

Similarly, it had long since occurred to Dean that he found Cas physically beautiful, that he found comfort in his presence, that he would rather be with Cas than anyone besides Sammy.  But he didn’t realize, until this moment, that he was sexually attracted to him. 

God, if he were back on earth, he’d be considered a pervert.

Dean didn’t have much time to think about this, however, as Castiel’s long, pronged tongue wrapped around his dick.  Dean moaned, trying to arch off the bed, only for Cas to gently pin his hips to the mattress, holding them in place as he worked Dean’s dick with his absurdly talented tongue.

It was like nothing Dean had ever experienced before, and he opened his mouth in a silent ‘o’ of inexorable pleasure as the undulating tongue, coiled around his shaft like a column, squeezed with just the right amount of pressure.  

It was long enough that the tip of the tongue could easily reach down to lap at and tickle his balls, causing him to nearly become overwhelmed with sensation.

Oddly enough, it was almost grounding when the huge paws began to roam over Dean’s body, exploring, searching for erogenous zones.  They were huge, yet so gentle, so attentive, even if they could have so easily been deadly. Just like Castiel himself.

When the thick pads of his thumbs rubbed over Dean’s nipples, Dean let out a choked off mone, arching into the touch desperately. 

Castiel grinned around his dick, which he was still working with his tongue, and began to rub gentle circles over the stiff pink buds, quickly deducing just the right amount of pressure to get Dean to arch and moan at the overwhelming pleasure.

As Dean felt himself get closer to climax, he realized Castiel must have been getting closer as well, because he reached down with one hand to stroke his own member.  Dean could only make out part of his unsheathed phallus, but what he could see was huge, as long as Dean’s forearm and at least as thick. Upon closer inspection, he was sure he could make out a slightly smaller, second penis behind it as well.

Dean couldn’t speculate much, because Castiel’s huge hand could still easily stimulate both his nipples using his thumb and forefinger, with the very tip of his tongue came up to tease the head of Dean’s cock.

“ _Oh,_ ” Dean gasped out, spine arching off the bed.  “Cas... _Cas,_ I’m gonna… _oh._ ”

That was all he could get out before his cock spurted hot come directly into Castiel’s apparently waiting jaws, Dean’s jaw dropping open in white-hot pleasure.  

Castiel’s release wasn’t far behind, fucking himself aggressively into his hand until he came with a feral roar.  

Then, he rolled over and flopped on the bed, lying beside Dean as the two of them stared, boneless and panting, up at the ceiling.

“Well,” Dean managed, though he knew Cas couldn’t understand him.  “That was the most unexpectedly hot experience of my life.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some long-awaited smut! The next chapter will tie up some loose ends, reveal what happened to Sam, and lay the groundwork for a sequel.


	21. On Equal Ground

Post-coital, Dean sat in Castiel’s lap, tracing little shapes on the smooth scales of his palm, head resting on his shoulder and pad in front of him. 

“Do you regret it?”  Castiel grumbled.

To his immense relief, Dean shook his head.  With his free hand, he typed out, _“Do you?”_

Castiel resisted the urge to scoff at the notion.  “Why would I regret it, Dean?” 

_“I am your pet,”_ Dean pointed out.   _“An animal. Do you not think it…”_ He paused, thinking of the right word, before typing, _“...Dirty?”_

“Having sex with an animal is dirty,” Castiel agreed, speaking slowly as he thought his answer through.  “But as you said, Dean, you are not an animal.” 

Dean stiffened in his arms at this.  

“You are a person, Dean,” Castiel continued.  “I see that now. You have conscious thoughts and feelings and a soul, just as I do, and you are one of the sweetest and gentlest beings I have ever met.  I see now that you are my equal, and you always have been.”

Dean was silent for a period, and then Castiel heard him sniff.  Peering over Dean’s shoulder, Cas could see that his eyes were damp and pinkened.  

“Are you alright, little one?”  he inquired. 

Dean nodded. _“Sorry. I wait_ long _time to hear this,”_ he typed out. _“It means very much to me. Thank you.”_

“You mean very much to me, Dean,” Castiel assured him.  “You are very dear to my heart. Which is why…” 

He trailed off, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.  He could do this. It was the right thing to do.

“...Which is why I’m giving you the option of returning to your planet.”  

Dean’s head jerked up at the insinuation, looking almost alarmed.  

Cas continued, “I realize you were taken against your will, Dean, probably from a family, and friends who loved you.  I know your past owner hurt you for many years, and that was not f-” 

_“No one on Earth loves me,”_ Dean typed.  

Castiel blinked in surprise.  “...What?” he inquired, thinking Dean might have misspelled something.

_“Or everyone who loves me is already gone,”_ Dean added, quickly putting an end to that notion.   _“My mother is dead. My father is dickhead who beats me, shouts at me, and pulls me away from all of my friends.  My brother is with me when I am taken. I do not know what happens to him.”_

Castiel wanted to say something, but Dean was still typing, so he stayed silent and listened.

_“I have no one, Cas.  No one on Earth misses me.  I only have you.”_ Dean’s other hand gives Castiel’s palm a squeeze.   _“And you take care of me. You are kind to me. And I am glad to have you, Castiel.”_

That familiar warmth blossomed in Castiel’s chest at Dean affirming his affection for him, and he nuzzled the tip of his nose into the little human’s hair.  “I am glad to have you as well, Dean,” he murmured. “And I promise, I will always take care of you. Never again will you be alone in the universe.”

Dean sighed contentedly, leaning back into the touch.  Verbally, he chattered something. 

Castiel arched an eye-ridge.  “What was that?”

Dean huffed, and typed, _“I am glad I found you, Cas.”_

Castiel smiled.  “As am I.”

There was a moment of silence, both of them watching the stars and slow rotation of the distant, neighboring space station outside of Castiel’s window.

“After this, I will be getting much more involved in the human rights movement,” Castiel remarked, thinking aloud.  “I will start by contacting Gabriel. We always thought he was somewhat...fanatical about such things. I haven’t spoken to him in a while.”

He could tell Dean was listening intently, and brought his free hand up to absently stroke his hair.

“He lives on his spaceship, last I heard, with a quite majestic but ridiculously tall human.  I’ve never seen one so big,” he chuckled. “I believe his name is Sam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished, everyone! Thank you so much for the kudos and support, and don't forget to comment if you enjoyed it. There will be sequels, albeit probably much shorter than this one (approximate one to three chapters each), in which Dean is reunited with Sam, explores his relationship with Cas, and much more. 
> 
> I also encourage anyone interested to write fics inspired by or expanding upon this universe, including reverse-verse, one-offs, and anything else you might desire. 
> 
> Hit me up with comments about what you'd like to see next and any questions you might have! Thank you all for being amazing! <3


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